The Better Part of Valor
by N'kala
Summary: Kids are being kidnapped and murdered. With no other choice, Mulder is called in to assist VCS to investigate, with Scully and Skinner along for the ride.
1. Default Chapter

Title: The Better Part of Valor  
Author: N'kala99  
Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, and Skinner are not mine. They belong to Chris Carter,   
1013 Productions, and Fox. The other characters you don't recognize come out of my   
own warped mind. g If I have offended anyone else, I didn't mean to. Obviously, I do   
not own McDonalds, Marvin the Martian, Best Western, or Eatin' Park and their   
Breakfast Smile. I hope I covered all of the bases. I really don't want to lose that quarter   
I finally earned.  
Spoilers: Grotesque, Detour, and Kill Switch  
Rating: PG-13 or R for 'adult language' and explicit description. You'll know when you   
see it.  
Author's Notes: Basically, I just picked a city and threw in whatever I wanted. This is   
definitely not accurate. Also, I don't know if the information I have in here is accurate.   
Also, this is just one of my interpretations of what it would be like if Mulder, Scully, and   
Skinner went on a case. Not an x-file, though. I hope you like it!  
Also—thank you to all who sent me such glowing reviews. This is for all of you.  
Summary: Kids are being kidnapped and murdered. With no other choice, Mulder is   
called in to assist the VCS and investigate, with Scully and Skinner along for the ride.   
  
The Better Part of Valor  
1/9  
  
FBI Headquarters  
April 21st  
9:45 a.m.  
  
Thunder rumbled and shook the ground as lightning lit up the dark sky. Black clouds   
billowed, giving the morning an appearance of night. Rain, light at first, pounded on the   
near-deserted streets of the nation's capital as helpless passers-by scrambled for cover.   
The storm, though not unexpected, had appeared rather quickly and those not prepared   
were soaked within seconds.  
  
In the basement office of the J. Edgar Hoover building, the overhead lights, the desk   
lamp, and the computer screen flickered and steadied. The incident did not phase the sole   
occupant of the cramped and cluttered room as he sat hunched over an open file, happily   
chomping away on sunflower seeds.  
  
It was Saturday morning, and the building was nearly deserted. Since he was officially   
off-duty, Special Agent Fox Mulder had taken the liberty of going to work dressed   
casually in jeans and an oversized cotton sweatshirt, much more comfortable than the   
strict suit-and-tie as was the dress code.  
  
Mulder stared at the case file in front of him. It was a case that was being investigated by   
the Violent Crimes Section, and one of the agents working on it had secretly and   
'unofficially' asked for his help. Mulder had worked in VCS for three years before   
transferring out and starting up the X-Files, but there were several occasions where his   
assistance was requested. Mulder hated working for the VCS. He had always worked   
too hard and had always gotten too deep into the criminals' minds. The VCS had almost   
destroyed him, yet here he was, working on yet another profile.  
  
Several pictures and recent articles surrounded the file, and on the computer screen were   
the most recent pieces of information that he had asked the agent, who requested his help,   
to find.  
  
The case was high profile and extremely delicate. It was also four months old. What   
made it so unique from the other cases was the simple fact that the victims were all   
children.  
  
Boys and girls.  
  
Ages two to six.  
  
The murders occurred once every week. The children were abducted from a daycare   
center in broad daylight. The week was spent torturing and molesting the child, followed   
quickly by gutting the victim alive. Each child was found back at the daycare center,   
without his or her internal organs.  
  
Except for the heart.  
  
The tiny organ was left untouched.  
  
Mulder, all in all, was surprised that he hadn't been called in earlier. The agent who   
contacted him, Kevin White, had mentioned that his presence had been requested several   
times, but for some reason, the requests were denied. But with the situation growing   
more and more desperate, White had no other options other than to involve Mulder.   
Without anyone's knowledge.  
  
As he read and reread the profile, Mulder couldn't help but think that he should have   
become involved sooner. Maybe he could have saved a few of the children.  
  
The profile stated that the killer was male, in his thirties, and lived alone. He was unable   
to keep a job and had no family, at least none to turn to.  
  
Mulder thought that the profile was wrong.  
  
Based on what information he had, Mulder believed the killer to be in his late forties and   
fairly well to do. There was something else . . . something he couldn't quite put his   
finger on . . .  
  
"Now, why did I think I'd find you here?"  
  
Mulder jumped at the voice and looked up to see Scully standing in the doorway. He   
quickly shut off his computer and began to shove the papers and photographs back into   
the file.  
  
"Scully!" Mulder exclaimed. "You almost gave me a heart attack! What are you doing   
here?"  
  
Scully calmly approached Mulder's desk. "I could ask you the same thing. What's   
that?" She reached for the file, but Mulder pulled it out of her reach and clutched it to his   
chest. Scully frowned.  
  
"Mulder, what's going on?" she asked.  
  
"Nothing." Mulder suddenly became very interested in the surface of his desk.  
  
Scully's blue eyes caught sight of a photograph on the ground. Remembering it falling   
there when she'd walked in, she stooped down and lifted it to her eyes. When she saw it,   
she felt herself grow weak.  
  
"Oh God, Mulder, no," she whispered.  
  
Mulder snatched the photograph from Scully's hand and tucked it into the folder, but the   
damage had already been done. Scully was looking at him, horror mingling with concern   
on her face.  
  
"How long have you been working on this?" she asked.  
  
"I got it early this morning," Mulder replied softly, still not meeting her gaze. "They   
asked for my help. They don't have any new leads."  
  
"Dammit!" Scully yelled, at the same time slamming her palm down on the desk.   
Mulder was startled at the sudden burst of anger. "Dammit, Mulder, why you? You   
don't work for them anymore!"  
  
"Scully, my help is unofficial," Mulder protested. "Only one other person knows I'm   
doing this, and he needs me. They need me. I can't stand by and watch innocent children   
die when I know I could've done something. I would have become involved sooner or   
later. I wish it was sooner, but I can't change that. You knew that this was bound to   
happen."  
  
Scully nodded. "I did," she admitted quietly. "But I was hoping to be there with you   
when you opened the file. You shouldn't have to be alone on a case like this. No one   
should."  
  
Mulder smiled faintly. "Thanks," he said.  
  
Scully returned the smile. "I came by to ask you if you wanted to grab a late breakfast   
with me. We can discuss the case."  
  
"Agent Scully," Mulder teased. "Are you asking me out on a date?"  
  
Scully laughed. "In your dreams, wise guy," she retorted. "Come on, my treat."  
  
"Really?" Mulder stuffed the folder into his briefcase, pulled on his jacket, and followed   
his partner from the room. "I wasn't aware that McDonalds served breakfast so late- ow!   
Geez, Scully, anyone ever tell you that you're stronger than you look?"  
  
Their laughter echoed off the walls of the hallway, giving the dank basement a feeling of   
warmth.  
  
end 1/9  



	2. 2

The Better Part of Valor  
2/9  
  
A.D. Skinner's office  
April 23rd  
10:16 a.m.  
  
Assistant Director Walter Skinner sat behind his desk, carefully observing his two agents   
as they sat waiting for him to begin the impromptu meeting. Skinner was in no hurry; he   
didn't want to have to do what he was about to do.  
  
He examined Scully. Scully sat in her customary seat on his left, dressed in a sedate blue   
pants suit that matched her eyes and set off her short flame-red hair. Around her neck   
was the gold cross that she seemed to be wearing more often. Despite her business-like   
features, she appeared haggard.  
  
Skinner's eyes fell on Mulder. Mulder sat slumped in the chair to Skinner's right, and   
was not at all as fresh as his partner. He wore a charcoal-colored suit with a Marvin the   
Martian tie, something he had probably received as a gag gift. His face was pale and   
drawn, and there were dark circles under his eyes.  
  
Skinner hated himself for what he was about to do.  
  
"Agents," he said. "You've been specifically requested by VCS to work on the   
Pittsburgh case." He pushed a file folder towards them, which neither agent accepted.   
"Our flight leaves today at two, and we are to report for a meeting with SAC Douglas at   
eight."  
  
" 'We', sir?" Scully spoke up.  
  
Skinner nodded. "I will be accompanying you to Pennsylvania while you profile the   
killer. I suggest that you two go home and pack. I'll meet you at the gate with our tickets   
at one-thirty. Dismissed."  
  
Mulder and Scully exchanged surprised glances and stood. They began to exit, but   
Skinner called Scully back. Scully waved Mulder outside, shut the door, and approached   
her boss. Skinner circled around and sat on the edge of his desk.  
  
"Agent Scully," he began. "Is there something going on that I should know about?"  
  
Scully tensed. "What do you mean, sir?"  
  
"I mean, why do you look exhausted and why does Mulder look as if he's on the verge of   
collapse?" Skinner lamented.  
  
Scully sighed and looked away.  
  
"I know how you feel about this case," Skinner pressed. "I did what I could to keep   
Mulder off of it, but too many children have died. The Bureau looks bad in the media   
and everyone's shouting about why we haven't solved the case yet. I had no choice."  
  
Scully smiled faintly at the A.D. "No one did," she said. "Mulder got a hold of the case   
two days ago. He's been working on building a profile ever since."  
  
Skinner frowned. "Who gave it to him?"  
  
"I don't know," Scully replied. "And I'm not about to believe that Mulder is going to tell   
us."  
  
Skinner nodded. "We'll have to keep our eyes on Mulder," he told her. "This case is too   
much for even him to handle. Go home and pack. I'll see the two of you later."  
  
Scully straightened and strode briskly from the office.  
  
Best Western  
3:17 p.m.  
  
Scully was not in a good mood.  
  
She had arrived at the gate right on time, but alone. Skinner joined her five minutes later,   
but Mulder didn't show up until twenty minutes later. He had mumbled quick apologies,   
claiming that the weather had held him up.  
  
The storm, which hadn't improved since it began, was also the reason that their flight had   
been delayed for half an hour. The time had been spent catching Skinner up on   
everything Mulder and Scully had put together over the weekend.  
  
During the flight, Scully had tried to convince Mulder to get some sleep. She knew that   
he hadn't slept a wink for over forty-eight hours, but Mulder protested that he was 'fine'   
and had pored over the case file again.  
  
Skinner had claimed control of their rental car, and Scully had ridden beside him.   
Mulder stretched out in the backseat, his eyes never leaving the folder. He didn't utter a   
sound the entire ride to their motel.  
  
Now Scully was standing at the receptionists' desk in the lobby of a Best Western,   
glowering at the clerk who had just told her that there were no rooms reserved for them.   
Skinner was standing next to her, trying to remain professional but failing. Mulder was   
sitting on a couch, staring at a photograph of one of the victims and completely oblivious   
to his surroundings.  
  
"What do you mean, 'there aren't any rooms'?" Scully demanded. "There should be   
three, reserved! I suggest you go check your computer again."  
  
The soft spoken 'again' jolted the clerk into action. Nervously brushing a strand of   
brown hair from her green eyes, she typed in a command.  
  
"I-I'm sorry," she stammered. "I don't see any rooms under 'Skinner'. M-Maybe   
another name?"  
  
"No," Skinner said gruffly. "It wouldn't be under another name."  
  
"Can't you at least find us three rooms?" Scully asked.  
  
"N-None, sorry," the clerk said nervously. "All of our rooms are either occupied or   
reserved."  
  
"Dammit!" Scully shouted.  
  
Mulder suddenly materialized beside her. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked.  
  
Scully jumped, startled, then glared at him. "I'm glad you decided to join the land of the   
living," she snapped.  
  
The biting remark came out harsher than she meant, but before she could say anything   
more Mulder turned to Skinner. "Sir?"  
  
"The computer says that there are no rooms reserved for us," Skinner told him, forcing   
his voice to remain calm.  
  
"Oh, is that all?" Mulder gingerly stepped between the two seething agents and flashed   
the clerk his most dazzling smile. "I have a computer at home like that. Always screw   
up. I never can trust that thing."  
  
To Scully's and Skinner's amazement, the clerk blushed. Mulder held out his hand. "My   
name's Mulder. What's yours?"  
  
"T-Tina." The girl grasped the outstretched hand, which Mulder gently shook. He gave   
her another smile, which Tina returned.  
  
"You'll have to excuse my friends," he said, finally releasing Tina's hand. "We had a   
really bad flight, and we're just tired and hungry."  
  
"I understand." Tina's eyes never left Mulder's.  
  
"It would save us a great deal of time if you let me use your computer to find our   
reservations," Mulder continued.  
  
Tina's expression grew panicked. "Uh, I don't know," she said. "Company policy-."  
  
Mulder tilted his head to the side and gave her his infamous 'sad puppy dog eyes'. "I   
won't tell if you won't." His lower lip pouted slightly.  
  
Scully watched the scene in amazement. She couldn't believe what she was seeing.   
Glancing at Skinner's stunned face, she knew that he was equally stunned, with   
admiration hinting at his features.  
  
Tina instantly nodded, and Mulder moved behind the computer. Within five minutes he   
stepped back and pointed. "See? Rooms 314, 315, and 317. All it takes is telling the   
computer who's boss."  
  
Relief was etched across Tina's face as she quickly distributed the keys. "Thank you so   
much," she gushed. "You are a life saver."  
  
"Cherry flavored, right?" With a wink and another smile, Mulder left to collect the   
luggage and carried it all to the elevator. Skinner and Scully followed, too astonished to   
speak until they were in the privacy of the elevator.  
  
"Geez, Mulder," Scully spoke first. "There might be use for you yet."  
  
"What the hell did you do?" Skinner chimed in.  
  
Mulder shrugged. "If I tell you, do you both promise not to go back down and shoot   
her?"  
  
"Mulder . . ." Scully's voice held a warning.  
  
Mulder sighed. "She misspelled 'Skinner'."  
  
In the lobby, Tina was startled by the sudden yelling emanating from the elevator doors.   
Shrugging it off, she returned to dreaming about the handsome, mysterious man who had   
just saved her from his friends' fury.  
  
end 2/9  
  



	3. 3

The Better Part of Valor  
3/9  
  
SAC Douglas' office  
7:58 p.m.  
  
Agent Steve Douglas glanced up at the knock on his door. He closed the folder sitting on   
his desk and leaned back in his chair, rubbing tired dark eyes. Running an olive-skinned   
hand through jet-black hair, he cleared his throat and called, "Come in!"  
  
The door opened, and Douglas' exhaustion was replaced with contempt. "Well, well,   
well, if it isn't Spooky Mulder. So, you've finally graced us with your presence. Maybe   
if you had joined us earlier instead of chasing little green, excuse me, gray men, then we   
could have saved some of these kids."  
  
Mulder was standing just inside the doorway, seemingly unable to move. His mouth was   
parted slightly in shock, his hazel eyes revealing surprise and anger. Beside him and to   
his left stood a petite redheaded woman, who was glaring at Douglas.  
  
Someone cleared his throat, and Mulder stepped aside. Douglas' mouth dropped open,   
his face flaming in embarrassment when he saw who was with them.  
  
"A.D. Skinner!" Douglas jumped to his feet and stiffened. "I-I didn't see you back   
there!"  
  
"Apparently not," Skinner replied. "If this little display is an example of what's to come,   
then I suggest you straighten up. It is not Agent Mulder's fault that he wasn't here   
earlier."  
  
"Yes, sir." Douglas looked at Mulder. "I apologize, Sp- Agent Mulder."  
  
The apology was anything but sincere, and everyone knew it. Mulder clamped his mouth   
shut and nodded. Scully lightly touched his arm, concern evident on her face. Mulder   
gave her a lopsided grin that didn't quite meet his eyes.  
  
Douglas fought to keep the hatred out of his eyes as he choked out his apology. He   
gestured for Skinner, then Scully, to sit in the two available chairs. Mulder remained   
standing.  
  
"We don't have much time," Douglas began. "Another kid has gone missing this   
afternoon." He handed Skinner the file he'd been reading, which contained a background   
on the child and a recent photograph. "Four-year-old Suzie Parker was taken during play   
time, just like the other kids. No one saw anything. Even the cops assigned to watch the   
premises didn't know the girl was gone. Hopefully, your Agent Mulder can write a   
profile before it's too late."  
  
He glanced back at Mulder, who returned the gaze evenly.  
  
"Were any preliminary examinations performed on the victims?" Scully spoke up.  
  
"And you are?" Douglas prodded.  
  
"Agent Scully is a forensic pathologist and Agent Mulder's partner," Skinner informed   
him.  
  
Douglas eyed the woman's cool exterior. *The biggest jerks get the best breaks* he   
thought. Aloud he replied, "No. Why? It's pretty obvious how these kids died."  
  
Scully set her jaw and took a deep breath. "I mean, sir, that an exam could show any clue   
as to the identity of the killer."  
  
"Oh." Douglas shrugged. "There's only one body left, and we're releasing it to the   
family tomorrow."  
  
"When do your agents meet next?" Skinner asked.  
  
"Tomorrow morning at nine," Douglas answered. "We'll meet down the hall from here   
and we'll bring you up to speed. Is there anything you'll need for the investigation?"  
  
"We'll need to see the crime scene." Mulder spoke u for the first time since arriving.  
  
Douglas nodded, giving Mulder the barest glance. Skinner stood, bringing the SAC to   
his feet. Scully stood, slower, as Douglas moved from behind his desk and shook   
Skinner's hand.  
  
"Glad to have you with us, sir," he told the A.D. He turned to Scully and shook her hand   
gently with a smile. "You too, Miss Scully."  
  
Scully broke the lingering grip and stared coldly at him. She spun on her heel and   
stormed from the room. Skinner followed, but paused just outside.  
  
Aware of Skinner's eyes watching his movements, he held out his hand to Mulder.   
Mulder hesitated, then accepted the hand. Douglas leaned forward, and in a voice only   
Mulder could hear, he hissed, "The A.D. won't always be there to protect you. You   
better be good as everyone says, because if another kid dies, not even he can save you."  
  
Douglas dropped Mulder's hand and went back to his desk. Mulder stared at him, then   
left.  
  
Skinner was standing at the end of the hall, and the two walked in silence to their rental   
car where Scully stood waiting for them. She watched as Mulder avoided her gaze and   
climbed into the back seat.  
  
"You okay Mulder?" Scully asked.  
  
"Sure. Fine." Mulder glanced at her, then turned away.  
  
Scully gently squeezed his shoulder, then took her seat up front. Skinner got behind the   
wheel and guided the car from the parking lot.  
  
"I think we'll all feel better once we've had some dinner," Skinner announced. "I don't   
know about you, but I'm starved. Any requests?"  
  
"Anything hot," Scully said. "Mulder?"  
  
No response.  
  
"Mulder?" Scully turned around to find Mulder slumped over, his head resting against   
the window. His eyes were closed and his mouth was parted, emitting gentle snores.   
Scully smiled and turned back around.  
  
"Is it always like this?" Skinner asked quietly.  
  
Scully looked down at her hands. "More or less," she whispered.  
  
"I had no idea."  
  
They rode without a word for several miles until Skinner slowed and pulled into the   
parking lot of a pizza parlor. Mulder awoke at the sudden halt and blinked his eyes   
several times. He glanced around in confusion.  
  
"This doesn't look like the hotel," he mumbled.  
  
"Brilliant deduction, Sherlock," Scully laughed. "Hungry?"  
  
"No." Mulder closed his eyes. "I just want to get back to the hotel and start working."  
  
"Start working?" Scully echoed. Skinner slipped quietly from the car and went inside the   
restaurant. "Mulder, you haven't stopped working since you got this case. You need to   
sleep. You need to eat."  
  
Mulder scowled but didn't protest. One look at the determination in Scully's face told   
him that he wasn't going to win the argument. Instead he took Suzie Parker's file from   
the floor between the two front seats and opened it. He barely noticed when, half an hour   
later, Skinner returned with two steaming boxes of pizza. Handing the food to Scully,   
Skinner shifted the car into gear and drove the rest of the way to the hotel.  
  
As Scully walked through the lobby, she tossed a glance at the small crowd of three girls   
at the front desk, Tina among them. They were whispering and giggling amongst   
themselves, and Scully followed their gazes to the object of attention.  
  
Mulder was walking to the elevator, his head ducked in the file he carried. He was   
completely unaware of the girls' dreamy stares. Skinner glanced at Scully and, coming to   
the same realization, exchanged an amused smile. An idea too good to resist popped into   
Scully's head.  
  
"Hey, Mulder!" she called.  
  
Mulder stopped and turned to Scully, giving the girls at the front desk the chance to get a   
better look at him. Scully had to work at keeping from laughing when she heard the girls   
gasp and chatter.  
  
"What, Scully?" Mulder asked.  
  
Skinner rescued her from a response. "Get the other files and meet in my room. We'll   
eat there."  
  
Mulder nodded and started to walk back to the elevator. Skinner leaned close to Scully.   
"That wasn't nice, teasing them like that."  
  
Scully allowed herself a small smile. "Call it payback for not giving us our rooms."  
  
They gathered in Skinner's room to eat and review the case. Skinner claimed the couch,   
Scully a chair, and Mulder the floor.  
  
"I didn't realize how hungry I was," Scully commented, reaching for her second slice.  
  
Skinner nodded and glanced down at Mulder, who was staring at a picture of Suzie   
Parker. "Mulder, you haven't eaten anything. Are you all right?"  
  
Mulder looked at his boss, alarmed. "Yeah, I'm fine." He deliberately didn't look at   
Scully. "I'm just not hungry right now. I'll eat later."  
  
"You'll do no such thing," Skinner said. "When was the last time you ate anything?"  
  
"And kept it down?" Scully added.  
  
"If I eat now, it'll just end up in the toilet later anyway." Mulder stood, clutching the file   
in his hands. "If you'll excuse me, I have to review this information and compare it to   
the rest of what we have so that we can save this little girl. I'll see you in the morning."  
  
"Mulder-."  
  
Mulder ignored Scully as he hurried from the room. Scully sighed and rubbed her aching   
temple.  
  
*This is going to be a looooooooong week* she thought tiredly.  
  
end 3/9  
  



	4. 4

The Better Part of Valor  
4/9   
  
Pittsburgh Field Office  
8:59 a.m.  
  
Skinner stepped into the meeting room first, seeing seven agents including Douglas snap   
to attention. Mulder entered with Scully, earning stares of disbelief from everyone   
except Douglas and Kevin White. White nodded to Mulder, a small smile of welcome   
and relief tugging at the corners of his mouth.  
  
"All right," Douglas announced. "Now that we're all here, let's begin." He went around   
the table and introduced each agent to the newcomers, then launched into descriptions of   
uneventful interviews with families and friends, the lack of clues at the daycare center,   
and no further ideas on how to proceed. Mulder interjected at one point with a   
suggestion to examine the children who hadn't been buried, but he was brushed off   
curtly. Skinner was appalled by the agents' lack of manners and was about to speak out   
when he caught Scully's eye. Scully mutely shook her head. Skinner looked over at   
Mulder and was surprised to find his agent the picture of calm. He sat quietly, listening   
to other reports as if the dressing-down he'd been given hadn't occurred. Skinner's   
respect for Mulder leaped up several notches.  
  
The meeting broke around lunchtime, and Kevin White approached the three of them.   
"Hey, Mulder, how's it going?"  
  
"Not bad." Mulder patted his friend on the back and turned to his partner and his boss.   
"Kev, this is Dana Scully, my partner, and this is A.D. Skinner. This is Kevin White."  
  
"Pleasure, sir," White said to Skinner. To Scully, he said, "I've heard quite a bit about   
you from Mulder. From what he says, he doesn't deserve you."  
  
Scully grinned and elbowed Mulder in the ribs. "Ain't that the truth." Mulder blushed.  
  
White laughed. "Well, I've been assigned to take you to the crime scene. But first, what   
say we stop for lunch? I know this great little place."  
  
"That's an excellent idea," Scully said. She looked at Mulder. "What do you think?"  
  
Mulder gulped. "Great," he agreed weakly.  
  
White led the group to his car, suavely holding the door open for Scully. He drove for   
ten minutes before stopping in front of a small diner, then ushered everyone inside to a   
booth in the back by a window.  
  
A middle-aged woman with sky blue eyes approached their table. She broke into a wide   
grin when she saw White.  
  
"Hey there, Kevin," she greeted. "The usual?"  
  
"You got it, Jo," Kevin smiled.  
  
"One double cheeseburger, no tomato, coming right up," Jo stated, scribbling the order   
down on her notepad. "How about the rest of you?"  
  
"I'll have the shrimp cocktail," Scully replied.  
  
"Regular burger," Mulder said.  
  
Skinner glanced through the menu, then looked at Jo. "Give me the club sandwich."  
  
"Drinks?" Jo asked.  
  
The orders were taken and the food arrived quickly. Mulder picked at his food, but   
remembered the incident the night before and bit into his burger. While White regaled   
Scully and Skinner with stories of Mulder in the VCS, Mulder excused himself to go to   
the bathroom.  
  
He had barely made it to the toilet before he threw the burger back up. After several   
minutes of dry heaving, he flushed the toilet and went to the sink.  
  
He stared at his reflection in the mirror and was shocked at his appearance. His face was   
pale and drawn, and his clothes sagged around him. He looked wasted.  
  
"Well, lookie here. Spooky! Fancy running into you."  
  
"What do you want, Jacobs?" Mulder asked tiredly.  
  
Agent Tom Jacobs was one of the men Mulder had met earlier at the meeting. At six foot   
five, he towered over Mulder. He was solidly built, with blond hair and blue eyes. He   
glared down at Mulder.  
  
"What do I want?" Jacobs echoed. "What I want is to know why you're in here wasting   
time while some kid is getting herself killed. You're supposed to be the miracle profiler.   
Where's the miracle?"  
  
"Lay off, Tom!" a voice called from the doorway. "The poor guy just got here yesterday.   
Besides; it's not as if you had anything to contribute to the investigation."  
  
Jacobs turned and glared at White, but did as he was told. White took Mulder by the arm   
and gently guided him away from the angered agent.  
  
"Don't listen to him, Mulder," White said. "Jacobs is a jerk. Just like the rest of them."  
  
"Forget it," Mulder said. "Stuff like that happens a lot. I'm going to go wait outside for   
you guys to finish. How much do I owe you?" He took out his wallet.  
  
White waved his hand. "Put your money away," he replied. "Consider it an apology for   
what happened back there."  
  
Mulder gave him a ghost of a smile. "Thanks."  
  
"No problem." White watched his friend go, wondering if there was more to the problem   
with his fellow agents than what he was seeing.  
  
Teeny Tots Daycare Center  
1:13 p.m.  
  
Scully stood beside Skinner, only half-listening to the interview that was going on. Her   
mind continued to drift back to the conversation she'd had with White after she had sent   
him to check on Mulder. Mulder had been in the bathroom much too long, then had   
stormed out of the diner. He hadn't spoken a word since lunch. White had informed and   
Skinner of what he had witnessed in the bathroom. All three knew that, sooner or later,   
Mulder would have to confront all of the harassment and emotional abuse, and they   
silently agreed that they wanted to be there when he did.  
  
Mulder was moving ever so slowly along the front lawn of the daycare center. His eyes   
swept the ground, coming to rest at a muddied spot. Carefully, he knelt down and stared,   
as if seeing beyond the grass.  
  
Kevin White was leaning against his car, watching Mulder as if he knew exactly what   
Mulder would do. Perhaps he did. He and Mulder had worked together before.  
  
Scully looked around the office where she sat. It was tiny and cluttered, with a desk and   
a cabinet. Toys littered every surface, and the wall was covered with dozens of pictures   
drawn by kids.  
  
She glanced out the window overlooking a large room. The room was filled with things   
for young children to play with. The lights were turned off. Apparently the information   
about the kidnappings had leaked out and the center was forced to close.  
  
"Thank you for your help." Skinner's voice brought Scully back to the conversation.   
She stood along with the A.D. "If you think of anything else, don't hesitate to call."  
  
The daycare director, an elderly black man with silver hair and a kind face, stood and   
shook hands with both of them. "Please, find this SOB and save Suzie. They're such   
good kids. They didn't deserve this."  
  
Scully and Skinner joined White out front. White nodded at their approach, but didn't   
straighten. "Les is a good man. Started the center after his wife passed away twenty   
years ago. He's been devastated by these killings."  
  
Scully drifted over to where Mulder remained crouched. He hadn't budged an inch since   
arriving at that position. Scully knelt beside him and called his name. Mulder didn't   
move.  
  
"Mulder." She took his hand into hers and squeezed.  
  
That got a reaction, nut not one particularly desirable. Mulder gasped and began to   
tremble. His eyes didn't tear from the grass, which, Scully now saw, wasn't muddy but   
bloodstained.  
  
"H-He leaves them here . . . so m-much hate . . . b-but not at th-the child . . ." Mulder   
mumbled distantly.  
  
"Scully?" Skinner asked. "What's going on?"  
  
"He's seeing it happen," Scully said. She focused on Mulder. "Hey, partner, come on.   
Snap out of it."  
  
"No!" Mulder leapt to his feet and backed away. The look of pure horror in his eyes   
frightened Scully. "He feels anger, but . . . there's something else . . . I can't . . ."  
  
He closed his eyes and swayed. White caught him before he fell and hooked Mulder's   
arm around his shoulders. "Whoa, easy there buddy," he said.  
  
Skinner took Mulder's other arm and helped White carry Mulder back to the car. They   
eased him into the back seat and stepped aside so Scully could examine him.  
  
"Well, Dana?" White asked. "Is he okay?"  
  
Before Scully could answer, Mulder opened his eyes and looked around. "How did I get   
here?" he asked. He moved to get out of the car when Scully, Skinner, and White all   
pushed him back.  
  
"Where do you think you're going?" Scully demanded.  
  
Mulder gave her a disbelieving look. "I almost had it," he told her. "I need-."  
  
"You need to take a break," Scully cut him off. Mulder opened his mouth to protest, but   
Scully stood her ground. "Mulder, you passed out. You're not going to win this one, so   
sit down, shut up, and let us take you back to the hotel."  
  
With that, Scully jumped into the front passenger seat, buckled the safety belt, and   
crossed her arms.  
  
White whistled and shook his head. "That's one tough lady," he commented softly.  
  
Mulder threw him a glare, then looked at Skinner. The A.D. was trying very hard not to   
laugh and wasn't being entirely successful.  
  
The ride was silent. Mulder refused to talk about what he'd seen until he'd had time to   
figure it out himself. No one pushed him, but they were secretly curious as to what had   
happened.  
  
Once at the hotel, Mulder shook off the assisting hands and went to his room without a   
word. Scully thanked White for his help and followed Skinner into the elevator. As the   
doors slid shut, he turned to Scully. What happened out there?"  
  
Scully bit her lip, deciding what she would say. "When Mulder works on these kinds of   
cases, he . . . starts by studying everything."  
  
"Everything?" Skinner echoed, and eyebrow raised.   
  
Scully nodded. "Interviews, autopsy reports, the profile . . . he studies it all non-stop.   
Which is why he looked the way he did when you called us in yesterday."  
  
"He doesn't eat or sleep?" At Scully's confirmation, Skinner shook his head. "What   
then?"  
  
"Then he starts his own profile," Scully explained. "Of course, it's incomplete until he   
visits crime scenes, re-interviews those involved . . . that's when it gets kind of . . . well,   
spooky."  
  
"What happens?" Skinner pressed.  
  
The elevator doors opened, but neither agent moved. "Somewhere along the line, Mulder   
gets into the killer's mind," Scully continued. "He sees the killings taking place, sees   
himself as the killer. I don't like it. It's too dangerous. Especially after the Mostow case   
with Patterson . . ."  
  
Skinner didn't comment. He didn't know all of the details, but he knew enough to   
become concerned about Mulder.  
  
"My God," he whispered. "He does all this and puts up with the shit the other agents   
give him? No wonder he transferred."  
  
Scully nodded solemnly and stepped off of the elevator. She paused outside of her room   
and glanced at her watch. "I'm going to shower, then I'm going to work with Mulder on   
the profile."  
  
"I'll meet you in Mulder's room in half an hour," Skinner replied. "He's going to need   
all the help he can get on this."   
  
Room 317  
  
Mulder sat on the floor of his hotel room, surrounded by a sea of files. He felt sick, and   
he was exhausted, but he couldn't rest. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw the images   
of the children, sliced open.  
  
Dead.  
  
At the daycare center, he had seen himself gutting one young boy, Tommy Nelson, then   
laying him lovingly on the grass. He felt the anger and hatred and grief . . . but not   
remorse.  
  
He lifted photographs of each of the children and wrote the victims' names and ages on   
index cards, then put the pictures and cards in order of the children's deaths.  
  
Three-year-old girl, five-year-old boy, six-year-old boy, four-year-old girl, two-year-old   
girl . . .  
  
Something leapt out at him. Mulder wasn't entirely certain what, but he was so close he   
could practically taste it . . .  
  
"Mulder!"  
  
Mulder gasped and looked up. Scully was kneeling in front of him, her hands on his   
arms. Behind her stood Skinner. Both had identical looks of concern on their faces.  
  
"Dammit, Scully, why are you yelling?" Mulder demanded. "You scared the hell out of   
me!"  
  
Scully released Mulder and stood, anger clouding her features. "Sorry, Mulder, but when   
I tried to get your attention for five minutes you didn't answer! Raising my voice was   
preferable to hitting you!"  
  
Mulder stared at her as she sat forcefully down in a chair and crossed her arms. He felt   
guilty for snapping at her, and he lowered his head. "I'm sorry, Scully," he whispered.   
Gathering the photographs, he went to the opposite side of the room and sat on the bed.   
He began the slow process of taping the pictures to the wall, the index cards beneath each   
photo.  
  
"What are you doing, Mulder?" Skinner asked.  
  
"There's something I'm missing," Mulder replied. "I'm so close. The killer . . . he   
doesn't hate the children but he- he feels that he was cheated somehow. The other agents   
. . . they're wrong. He has no connection to these kids. But they weren't picked   
randomly either . . ." He trailed off, staring at the cards.  
  
When he didn't move for a while, Skinner collected several files from the floor and   
looked over them for any clues that would help. Scully took the rest and did the same.   
They worked in silence for several hours until a sharp knock on the door startled them.   
Mulder didn't move from his position on the bed; he simply stared at the photos.  
  
Scully opened the door and smiled. White stood on the other side holding several cartons   
containing Chinese food. He stepped into the room and gratefully allowed the A.D. to   
help him with his burden.  
  
"I figured you guys could use a break," White announced.  
  
"Perfect timing," Scully replied. She glanced at her watch and was surprised to find that   
it was well after six.  
  
They had just set out the cartons on the table when Mulder suddenly jumped to his feet.   
"That's it!"  
  
Of the three of them, Skinner was the only one who appeared startled. Scully and White   
merely looked at Mulder.  
  
"What's 'it', Mulder?" White asked.  
  
Mulder whirled around and looked at White in confusion. "Kevin? When did you get   
here?"  
  
"A couple of minutes ago." White held out a carton of sweet and sour chicken, which   
Mulder declined. "What's 'it'?"  
  
"The ages!" Mulder cried excitedly. "With a few exceptions, the boys are all older than   
the girls!"  
  
"How is that significant?" Skinner asked. "Is it?"  
  
"I think so," Mulder replied. "I believe that our killer has children of his own. Had. At   
some time. He feels like he was cheated out of . . . something . . . It's right there! I'm so   
close!"  
  
"You're too close." Scully took the sweet and sour chicken and held it out to Mulder as a   
peace offering. "Eat. You'll be able to focus more clearly with something in your   
stomach."  
  
Mulder hesitated, but forced himself to eat. He knew that the food would only end up in   
the toilet later, but he couldn't say anything. Scully would have him in a hospital before   
the words could leave his mouth. He couldn't afford to be on his back while Suzie Parker   
was still in danger.  
  
He set the carton down. "I'm going to go back to the office to do some more research,"   
he announced. "I'm pretty sure what I'm looking for is there."  
  
"I'll give you a ride," White volunteered. "But first, do us all a favor and shower first.   
Your smell could kill anyone in a fifty-mile radius."  
  
Mulder blushed as he disappeared into the bathroom. He emerged some time later in   
jeans and a light cotton shirt, feeling refreshed. White was lounging on Mulder's bed,   
flipping through a file. Scully and Skinner, along with dinner, were gone. The sudden   
memory of vomiting under the covering sound of the shower made his stomach churn.  
  
"Dana and the A.D. decided to grab some shut-eye before facing the lion's den   
tomorrow," White stated, seeing Mulder. "Ready?"  
  
Mulder managed a game grin. "As I'll ever be."  
  
end 4/9  
  



	5. 5

The Better Part of Valor   
5/9   
  
Pittsburgh Field Office  
April 25th  
7:16 a.m.  
  
Mulder was startled awake as an unseen hand grabbed the back of his collar and yanked   
him into a sitting position. He cursed inwardly when he remembered that he had drifted   
off while searching through the divorce records and birth certificates for the past fifty   
years.  
  
"What's this? While we're all working our asses off on this case, Spooky decides to   
waste our time and sleep on the job!"  
  
Mulder recognized Jacobs' voice, and he tried to break free of the tight grip. Jacobs   
hauled him to his feet and spun him around. Mulder noticed another agent, Scott Preston,   
standing in the doorway. Neither man looked happy to see him.  
  
Jacobs gripped the front of Mulder's shirt and held him close. "What's the matter   
Spooky? Did the aliens suck out your brain?"  
  
Mulder squirmed, but Jacobs held fast. "Come on, Jacobs," he said. "Knock it off."  
  
Jacobs' face grew a bright shade of crimson. "Giving me orders now, are you?" he   
snapped. "Well, I hope you know that if Suzie dies, it'll be your fault."  
  
"Let go!" Mulder protested.  
  
Jacobs narrowed his eyes. He released Mulder, but gave him a vicious shove, sending   
Mulder crashing into a chair. The chair tipped, and Mulder fell to the ground, striking his   
head against the floor.  
  
"What the hell is going on here?"  
  
SAC Douglas burst into the room and took in the scene. "What the hell were you   
thinking?" he demanded of Jacobs. "I know you don't like Spooky here, but he's with   
the A.D.! And you," he continued, looking down at Mulder. "For God's sake, make   
yourself useful! Every minute, every second you waste, a little girl is getting hurt. Now   
shape up, or I'll have the both of you suspended!"  
  
Mulder heard the words, and he tried to figure out why everyone was so angry. He heard   
silence, then even more yelling farther away. He struggled to his feet, but his knees gave   
out and he slowly sank back down. But instead of the cold, hard floor, he felt someone   
hold him and place a hand on his forehead. He became frightened and tried to move   
away when Scully's soothing voice broke through the fog in his mind.  
  
"Mulder! It's all right. It's me, Scully. Relax, Mulder, you hit your head. You might   
have a concussion, so stay awake."  
  
"Scully?" Mulder turned his head and saw his partner's concerned face hovering inches   
above him. "When did you get here?"  
  
"In time to see and hear that little display between you and Jacobs." Scully's concern   
shifted to fury. "When we saw Douglas going over, we thought he was going to handle   
the problem. I'm sorry Mulder. I should've been here sooner."  
  
Mulder tried to look for the source of the yelling he heard, but Scully refused to let him   
move. "What's that?"  
  
Scully grinned faintly. "That's A.D. Skinner. You thought he was mad when he yelled at   
you, think again. He was irritated at Jacobs, but what Douglas did really pushed him   
over the edge."  
  
Mulder smiled back. "Remind me to stay on his good side," he mumbled.  
  
"Bastards." Scully glanced up and saw Skinner enter the room. He slammed the door   
shut and knelt beside his two agents. "Agent Mulder, are you all right?"  
  
Mulder nodded and winced, regretting the action as it sent fresh waves of pain crashing   
down on him. "Fine, sir."  
  
"Please accept my apologies for-," Skinner began. He was cut off as Mulder waved his   
hand.  
  
"Forget it," he said. "Shit happens. Sir."  
  
Skinner looked at him incredulously. "Mulder, in case you're not aware, this shit isn't   
supposed to happen. During an investigation, agents are expected to work together, not   
against each other. I have never seen more disrespect in all my years in the service and   
in the Bureau together than I have these three days. This is intolerable."  
  
Mulder sat up, ignoring Scully's protests. "Thank you for your help and support, sir, but   
with all due respect, you aren't used to this. I am. And as much as I hate it, Scully is,   
too. You can't stop people from thinking what they want. If they want to believe that it's   
my fault Suzie's missing, let them. If they believe it's my fault that so many kids are   
dead, I can't change that. Maybe it is."  
  
The last was spoken quietly, but both Scully and Skinner gave him horrified looks.   
"Mulder, no," Scully said. "You can't believe that you-."  
  
"I'm not saying they're right or wrong," Mulder interrupted. "And I'm not saying that   
what they say and do doesn't hurt. I'm just saying, you can't change people. You just   
suck it up and go on."  
  
Mulder climbed to shaky feet and straightened the felled chair. He trembled slightly as   
he shuffled through several papers lying on the table.  
  
Scully stood and watched him before making him stop. Mulder allowed her to guide him   
to an ugly yellow plastic couch and sat wordlessly. Scully took his hands and gripped   
them.  
  
"First of all, Mulder," she said, "you have to believe me when I say that this isn't your   
fault. None of it: the deaths, Suzie Parker's disappearance . . . it was beyond your   
control. Working yourself to the point of collapse isn't going to help anybody."  
  
Mulder eyed her tiredly as she pressed on.  
  
"Secondly, Mulder, don't listen to Jacobs, Douglas, or any of those sons of bitches.   
They're so dense that if Skinner told them the earth was flat, they'd believe him."  
  
That earned a chuckle from Skinner and a smile from Mulder.  
  
"And last, but certainly not least," Scully continued, "you're hurt. I need to get you to   
the hospital to see if you sustained any damage."  
  
"No," Mulder replied. "Scully, I'm fine. I just have a headache. There's no dizziness,   
no nausea, no hallucinations, or any other indication of a concussion. Check me out   
yourself. I can't afford to be laid up right now. Not when I'm this close."  
  
Scully frowned, but did as Mulder asked. She checked his pulse, examined his pupils,   
and checked for a fever. Finding nothing wrong, she said, "All right, no hospital. But I   
want you to rest. By my calculations, you've slept as much as a few hours in the past   
five days. I want you to take a nap while Skinner and I continue the investigation. You   
can sleep right here if you want. We'll keep the wolves at bay so you can have some   
peace. All right?"  
  
Mulder didn't like the idea of sleeping while Suzie was still in danger, but Scully did   
promise to keep working. And he felt sooooo tired. He leaned back in the sofa and the   
last thing he heard before crumpling into the welcoming darkness was Skinner's voice   
demanding a pillow and blanket.  
  
5:51 p.m.   
  
Scully stood and stretched, working out the kinks in her stiff muscles. For what seemed   
like the millionth time, she walked over to Mulder's side to check on him. He hadn't   
stirred since falling asleep, but she wasn't too worried. She knew that he needed his rest.  
  
Sharp raps on the door shattered the delicate silence in the room. Scully held her breath   
and watched Mulder carefully, but Mulder was in too deep of a sleep to be disturbed.   
She smiled and began the routine of checking his pulse, gauging his temperature, and   
checking his pupils.  
  
Skinner opened the door and White slipped into the room, carrying more files and two   
large, white bags. He set everything on the table and grinned at Scully and Skinner. "I'm   
not sure what you guys did, but there isn't an agent in sight," he joked softly. "How's   
our boy doing?"  
  
"Still asleep." Scully joined the other two at the table and looked curiously at the bags.   
"What's that?"  
  
"Dinner." White dug into the bag and pulled out several foil-wrapped hamburgers and   
boxes of French fries. "I didn't know your preferences, so they're all the same; ketchup   
and lettuce. I also got the files you wanted."  
  
"Great," Skinner said. "I say we eat first, then work later. What about Mulder?"  
  
"What about Mulder?" Mulder was sitting up on the couch, rubbing his tired eyes. He   
ran a hand through his hair and stood.  
  
"He awakens!" White exclaimed. "About time. Hungry?"  
  
"What time is it?" Mulder asked, sinking into a chair and cradling his head in his hands.  
  
"About six." Scully pulled his hands away and took his head into her hands to look into   
his eyes. "Headache?"  
  
Mulder's first reaction was to deny that he was in pain, but he realized that lying would   
serve no purpose. Scully would only get angry.  
  
"Yeah," he admitted. "Six at night?"  
  
"Uh huh," Scully replied. "You've been asleep all day." A pause. "You seem okay.   
Just don't dance with the furniture for awhile."  
  
Mulder grinned. "There goes my schedule for the weekend." He winced at the pounding   
in his temple.  
  
"I'll send someone for aspirin and water," Skinner announced.  
  
Mulder was already searching through the papers that littered the conference table. "Did   
you guys make any progress?" he asked.  
  
"Not much," Scully answered. "We looked through everything and read your notes.   
Based on what we already know and what you told us, Skinner, Kevin, and I created a list   
of sixty men who fathered children and lost them through various purposes. And that's   
just the men who live in Pittsburgh right now."  
  
Mulder nodded. "Finally, we're getting somewhere," he commented. He lifted the   
nearest file and opened it.  
  
Scully immediately shut the file, lifted it, and put a hamburger and fries in its place.  
  
"Not so fast there, G-man," she said. "You need nourishment. You haven't had real food   
in days."  
  
"I ate yesterday!" Mulder protested.  
  
Scully gave him a pointed look. "Mulder, did you really believe that I wouldn't know?"   
she demanded. "I heard you throwing up your dinner last night, and I'm willing to bet   
that little trip to the bathroom after lunch wasn't just to powder your nose!"  
  
Mulder stared at her, his mouth hanging open in shock. He recovered and shook his   
head. "And some people think I'm spooky."  
  
He lifted the burger to his mouth and took a bite. After carefully chewing it, he was   
surprised that he was actually hungry. Mulder wolfed down the burger before the other   
agents had a chance to begin their own.  
  
"Geez, Mulder," Skinner said. "I've never seen anyone eat so fast."  
  
"Take it easy on those fries," Scully admonished him. "You want those to stay put."  
  
Mulder rolled his eyes and snatched a file to look at as he munched on his fries. He   
found the list of names that Scully had mentioned and slowly began the process of   
eliminating the suspects.  
  
He had been working for about an hour when he suddenly jumped to his feet, startling the   
room's occupants. He blushed slightly when he saw their eyes on him.  
  
"Sorry," he said. "I, uh, I'll be right back. I need to make a trip to the little agent's   
room."  
  
"Need help?" Scully asked.  
  
Mulder gave her a mischievous grin. "Are you coming on to me, Agent Scully?"  
  
"Agent Mulder, if I was 'coming on' to you, you wouldn't have to ask," Scully shot back.   
"You'd know."  
  
White burst into laughter at the astonished look on Mulder's face. Skinner started to   
laugh, but quickly turned it into a fit of coughs.  
  
"Actually, I could use a break myself," he stated, deciding to save his agent from further   
embarrassment. "Besides, now would probably be a good time for Agent Mulder to take   
his aspirin."  
  
Mulder suddenly remembered his headache. He had been so wrapped up in his research   
that he had completely forgotten about the pain, but since Skinner mentioned it, it was   
rapidly making up for lost time.  
  
He gratefully followed Skinner from the room, noting that the hall was nearly deserted.   
The agents on their way to and from different rooms passed by, but not without baleful   
glares directed at Mulder. Skinner was given respectful nods and smiles.  
  
Mulder arrived at the bathroom first and released to open the door when it opened   
suddenly, striking his hand. Mulder bit back a cry of pain and looked up into the startled   
face of Tom Jacobs.  
  
Jacobs saw the A.D. and stuck his hand out to Mulder. "My apologies, Agent Mulder,"   
he said. "No hard feelings?"  
  
His expression was neutral, but his eyes bore hard into Mulder. Mulder accepted the   
hand with his bruised right one. He fought to keep the pain from his face as Jacobs   
increased the pressure.  
  
With a final squeeze, Jacobs let go and hurried down the hallway. Mulder practically ran   
into the bathroom, Skinner following slowly behind.  
  
Mulder went about his business, mindful that his boss was nearby, then went to the sink   
to wash his hands. He looked in the mirror and was shocked at what he saw.  
  
He was a mess. His hair hung limply on his head. His face was gaunt and pale, and his   
shoulders were slumped. Mulder splashed cold water on his face, then groped blindly for   
a towel. He felt one pushed into his hands, and he wiped his face. When he opened his   
eyes, he saw two small white tablets nestled in the palm of Skinner's hand. Mulder   
swallowed the pills dry, cupped his hand under the running water and gulped down   
several handfuls. When he finished, he wiped his mouth and tossed the towel into the   
wastebasket.  
  
"Thank you, sir," he said.  
  
Skinner shrugged, then decided to change the topic. "How did you meet Agent White?"   
he asked.  
  
If Mulder appeared startled by the somewhat personal question, he gave no sign. "Kevin   
and I met our last year at the Academy," he replied. "We were partnered in our criminal   
psyche class to profile a killer based on information we were given. It was a major   
project; it included suspects, working with agents from out of town, and we were given a   
deadline. It was supposed to prepare us for 'the real thing'.  
  
"Anyway, Kevin and I worked together, and we solved the case in about three days. It   
was fairly easy to figure out. For both of us. I think we drove our professor crazy when   
we tried to explain the simplicity of the case and how it compared to real cases."  
  
Skinner smiled faintly, feeling slightly sorry for the unknown professor. "What grade did   
you get?"  
  
"B." At Skinner's skeptical look, Mulder continued, "The professor thought we could've   
been a bit more cooperative with the other agents."  
  
Skinner let out a tiny laugh as he and Mulder began to walk back to the conference room.   
"Your professor probably thought you were cheating."  
  
Mulder chuckled. "He probably wanted to have me committed after I explained how   
easy the project was."  
  
At that moment SAC Douglas came rushing down the hall towards them. Not even   
looking at Mulder, Douglas met Skinner's eyes and said, "We have something that you're   
going to want to see, sir."  
  
"What is it?" Skinner asked.  
  
"I found a package on my desk not ten minutes ago, addressed to all the agents working   
on the Kid Killer Case," Douglas replied, using the media's term for the case they were   
working on. "Inside was a little doll, no clothes, and cut up just like the kids. In the doll   
was this."  
  
He held up a white envelope that had Mulder's name on the front. Mulder took the   
envelope, opened it, and read the letter inside.  
  
I hear that you're working on the case now. I also know that you're   
pretty good. Well, while little Suzie is an angel, you still better pray  
that I don't kill her now and go after two or three kids a week. I dare  
you to come find us, if you can. If not, not even God can save this   
girl.  
U-know-who   
  
Mulder shook his head and handed the letter to Skinner. "He knows we're getting close,"   
he said.  
  
Skinner glanced through the note. "This is specifically addressed to you," he told   
Mulder. "How did he know that you're on the team? The press isn't supposed to have   
that information."  
  
"They don't," Douglas said. "Which means our killer has connections to the law   
enforcement. I'll take the note to forensics."  
  
"You won't find anything," Mulder replied. "The killer didn't manage to escape with   
murdering sixteen young children just to slip out now."  
  
Douglas' response was directed at Mulder, but he kept his gaze on Skinner. "All the   
same, we can't overlook any possibility. Also- there's a meeting tomorrow afternoon at   
one. Hopefully your profile will be completed by that time."  
  
He took the note from Skinner and took off in the opposite direction. Skinner looked at   
Mulder, a question evident on his face. Mulder anticipated his words before Skinner had   
time to form them.  
  
"Don't worry, sir," he assured the A.D. "I have enough information to form a suitable   
profile. I'll have it done in time."  
  
"In time for what?"  
  
Both men turned at the sound of Scully's voice as she walked up to them. She focused a   
concerned look on her partner. "Why are you taking so long? You didn't get sick again,   
did you?"  
  
"No, Agent Scully," Skinner replied for Mulder. He brought her up to date on the   
situation, and he saw her eyeing Mulder's innocent expression suspiciously.  
  
"Looks like we've got a long night ahead of us," she commented.  
  
"What!" Skinner turned on Mulder. "But you said you had enough information!"  
  
"And I do," Mulder stressed emphatically.  
  
"Yeah right." Scully faced the A.D. "Sir, with all due respect, I've been working with   
Mulder longer and closer than you, and I know that when Mulder says he had enough   
information, he'll be up all night putting it together."  
  
"I wasted time sleeping all day . . ." Mulder tried to say.  
  
"Catching up on the sleep you lost all weekend," Scully finished. "Well, if you're going   
to stay up all night, then I'm staying up with you."  
  
"I'll stay up, too," Skinner added. "The more of us there are working, the less we all   
have to stay up."  
  
Mulder slumped his shoulders in defeat and walked all the way back to the conference   
room. He was surprised to find it empty. "Where's Kevin?"  
  
"He was tired, so I sent him home," Scully answered, gathering up the files and put them   
into Mulder'' briefcase.  
  
Mulder helped to collect the folders as Skinner deposited their garbage into the   
wastebasket. As they began to walk to their car, the conversation drifted to who would   
drive.  
  
"I haven't driven yet!" Mulder protested.  
  
"Neither have I, Mulder," Scully pointed out. "Besides; you just took aspirin. It won't   
do us any good if you fell asleep behind the wheel!"  
  
"Scully, I'm-," Mulder began.  
  
"Mulder, if you say 'I'm fine', I swear I'll hurt you," Scully threatened. "Then you won't   
be in any condition to drive for a long while."  
  
"Since I have the keys, why don't I drive," Skinner spoke up.  
  
Mulder and Scully exchanged neutral glances, then shrugged.  
  
Skinner hid a smile as he climbed behind the wheel. Mulder once again claimed the   
back, stretching his long legs across the entire seat. Scully shook her head as she buckled   
herself in beside Skinner.  
  
As the car glided smoothly down the road, Skinner turned on the radio and flipped   
through several stations before finally settling on an oldies station. The announcer's   
voice finished relating the weather, and a new song began to play.  
  
It was an old tune, Joy to the World. Skinner recognized the song as an old favorite. A   
slight sound from the back caused the A.D. to glance in the rearview mirror at Mulder.  
  
Mulder was nestled in the back seat, his head leaning back. His back was propped up   
against the side of the car, and his arms were wrapped around his chest. A faint smile   
played on his lips. Skinner realized that the sound he'd heard was a sigh of contentment.  
  
Skinner looked at Scully. Scully was staring straight ahead, her eyes focused on one   
point on the road. It took a few minutes, but Skinner finally saw her face turning a rich   
shade of crimson.  
  
"What's wrong, Scully?" he asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.  
  
Scully looked sharply at him. "What do you mean?" she demanded.  
  
"Nothing," Skinner replied. "You just seemed kind of . . . distant."  
  
"Oh." Scully's voice was tiny. "It's nothing, sir. The song just made me remember   
something. That's all."  
  
Skinner waited, but Scully remained silent. He decided not to press. If she didn't want to   
talk about it, he wouldn't make her.  
  
Scully's thoughts were of a cold night in a Florida forest, holding her injured partner in   
her arms shortly after he'd been attacked by one of the mysterious 'Mothmen'. She   
turned around to look at Mulder. At the sight of his peaceful form, all embarrassment she   
felt left her. She faced front and waited for the song to end.  
  
Another song came on, and it took a moment for Scully to place it.  
  
Twilight Time.  
  
Shit.  
  
Mulder began to breathe faster, his arms twitching. Scully's hand shot out and turned the   
radio off. She began to hum Joy to the World, shocking the hell out of Skinner and   
herself. She didn't care. Mulder was already calming down.  
  
"Scully, what in the hell has come over you?" Skinner reached to turn the radio back on,   
but Scully stopped him.  
  
"No! Sir, please," Scully pleaded. "A while back Mulder and I were working on this one   
case- well, I don't really want to go into it. But needless to say, that song triggers some   
rather unpleasant memories. Trust me, sir. Don't turn the radio back on. Please."  
  
Skinner stared at her, but finally relented. Scully sagged back in relief.  
  
"Thank you, sir," she said gratefully.  
  
"One of these days," Skinner said, "you're going to have to explain to me why you two   
do the things you do."  
  
Scully smiled faintly. "Are you sure you'd be ready to hear it?"  
  
"When the time comes I won't be anywhere else," Skinner replied evenly.  
  
He guided the car into a parking spot and turned off the engine. Scully hopped out of her   
seat and stretched. Skinner opened the back door and gently shook Mulder's shoulder.   
"Mulder, wake up. We're here."  
  
When Mulder didn't stir, he shook harder, then looked to Scully for help. Scully   
searched the ground, picked up a leaf, and held it up. Grinning wickedly, she said, "This   
is where the job gets fun."  
  
Skinner suddenly felt a pang of pity towards the younger man when he realized what   
Scully was about to do. "Isn't there another way?"  
  
"Nope. I've tried them all." Scully leaned forward and, ever so lightly, tickled Mulder's   
face with the leaf. Mulder's face twitched, and he batted his hand at the irritation.  
  
Scully wasn't about to be dissuaded. She leaned closer and tickled Mulder's nose.   
Skinner saw Mulder's hand slowly move, but Scully wasn't in a good spot to see it until   
it was too late.  
  
Mulder seized Scully's wrist and pulled her effortlessly into the car. Scully let out a   
startled cry as she collapsed onto Mulder's lap. Mulder immediately began to tickle her   
until tears were streaming down her face.  
  
"Didn't think I was serious when I said I'd get you back last time, did you?" Mulder   
asked lightly, panting hard from exertion.   
  
"I'll get you back for this," Scully replied, also breathing heavily.  
  
The two looked up suddenly as a sound they never thought they'd hear reached their ears.  
  
A.D. Skinner was laughing as he walked into the hotel.  
  
Room 317  
12:19 p.m.  
  
Mulder removed his reading glasses and tiredly rubbed his face. He had finally finished   
his profile after studying all of the information the entire night.  
  
The killer was a forty-nine-year-old man named Joel McKay. He had been married for   
six years to a woman named Hannah, and had two children: a son and a daughter.  
  
McKay was also a cop at the time, and highly respected. Then, after a drug bust that had   
cost him the life of his partner, his wife had left him, and had taken the children with her.   
The son, Brian, had been six at the time while young Kathryn was nearing her third   
birthday.  
  
Not long after McKay had been discharged from the force because of recklessness and   
unnecessary roughness. McKay hadn't been heard from since.  
  
Based on the information and his own skills, Mulder had pieced together the reason for   
the killings.  
  
Hannah had had an argument with her husband, according to old reports by witnesses.   
Hannah had said that she wouldn't allow McKay to dirty their children's pure hearts with   
his hatred for his partner's killer that had grown into an obsession. Already having   
packed their belongings, she had driven herself and the children away and out of   
McKay's life.  
  
McKay had grown more despondent at work until he was released. From there he tried to   
locate his children, becoming successful and yet failing each time he drove to their last   
known location before learning that they had moved on days, weeks, or months before.  
  
He had finally caught up with his children fifteen years later. His children didn't   
recognize him, and when he found out that they called someone else 'dad', he snapped.  
  
He returned to Pittsburgh and began to kidnap any young child that reminded him of his   
own. McKay spent the week raping the child and beating the child- an act of vengeance   
against his ex-wife and her new lover. The he would gut the child, leaving nothing but   
the heart as if to prove that his ex-wife had been wrong, that the child's heart was still   
pure. Then McKay dumped the body where he'd found it and repeated the cycle.  
  
Mulder glanced over at Scully. Scully was curled up in his bed, having fallen asleep   
around six that morning. Skinner was on the couch, also sleeping. Mulder figured that, if   
they were as tired as he was, he'd leave them be. He had taken off their shoes, collected   
the folders surrounding them, and had draped blankets over the both of them.  
  
He envied that they could sleep at times like this, when the guilt ripped his heart into   
shreds. Mulder never slept. He never ate.  
  
That is, until Scully came along.  
  
She was his anchor to reality. But she was so much more than that. Mulder knew that he   
was damn lucky that she had been assigned his partner. No one else ever gave a damn   
about him, except for her. She looked out for him, took care of him when he needed it,   
and stood by him.  
  
For that, Mulder was eternally grateful.  
  
Glancing at his watch, Mulder figured that he had enough time to shower and change   
before attending the meeting and turning in his profile.  
  
He debated whether or not to awaken Scully and Skinner for the meeting. Looking at   
them, he didn't have the heart to do it. After all, their presence wasn't crucial. It was   
merely a formality that didn't have to be extended to the agents at the field office.  
  
Mulder settled for writing them a note, then disappeared into the bathroom for his   
shower.  
  
end 5/9  
  



	6. 6

The Better Part of Valor  
6/9  
  
Room 317  
2:36 p.m.  
  
Scully yawned and stretched, feeling somewhat refreshed. She became confused when   
she saw that she was in Mulder's room. Skinner was just beginning to stir on the couch,   
and the past day's events came flooding back to her. She glanced at the clock.  
  
"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, waking Skinner fully.  
  
"What?" Skinner demanded groggily. "What is it?"  
  
"The meeting!" Scully jumped to her feet. A quick survey of the room told her that   
Mulder was gone, and that he had taken the files with him. Her eyes caught sight of a   
note sitting on the table where she had remembered seeing Mulder last, and she read it.  
  
Scully and Sir,  
I finished the profile and went on ahead to the meeting. The two  
of you needed to sleep, so I'm going to explain to SAC Douglas  
that you aren't really needed for this meeting. I'll be back in an   
hour or so.  
Mulder  
  
"Damn him!" Scully cried, slamming the note back onto the table. "He went without   
us!"  
  
Skinner picked up the note and read it. "Well, the meeting should be about over, so   
there's no reason to try and make it," he rationalized. "I say we wait here for Mulder to   
return, then we can send him straight to bed."  
  
Scully sighed and tried to calm herself. "I just don't like the idea of him facing those   
bastards alone," she admitted.  
  
Skinner placed a comforting hand on Scully's shoulder. "He'll be okay," he assured her.   
"Besides; Kevin will be there."  
  
They didn't have to wait long. Not ten minutes had passed before the door opened and   
Mulder stepped into the room. He looked haggard. His suit jacket was slung over his   
shoulder. His dress shirt was half un-tucked and the top button was undone. His tie hung   
loosely around his neck. He looked up and was startled to see Scully and Skinner   
standing beside him.  
  
"You're up," he stated.  
  
Scully took his arm and pushed him down onto the bed. "Yeah, we're up," she   
confirmed. She took his coat and tie and set them on a chair. "How'd the meeting go?"  
  
Mulder flinched involuntarily, then looked down.  
  
"That good, huh?" Scully asked.  
  
She began to unbutton Mulder's shirt. Mulder sat passively, as if he were in a trance.   
Needing to feel useful, Skinner retrieved a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. He handed   
the shirt to Scully, who pulled it down over Mulder's head.  
  
"What happened at the meeting?" Skinner asked as Scully worked on Mulder's shoes and   
socks.  
  
Mulder hid a yawn and looked tiredly at Skinner. "I gave 'em my profile," he stated   
simply.  
  
When it became apparent that he wasn't going to say more, Skinner prodded him.   
"And?"  
  
"And?" Mulder echoed dully, already half asleep.  
  
"Yes, Mulder," Skinner said. "And what did they do when you gave them your profile?"  
  
"They . . ." Mulder's brow furrowed almost comically. "They, um . . . I'm too tired to   
remember. I'm sorry."  
  
"There's nothing for you to be sorry about." Scully finished tugging on his sweatpants   
and gently pushed him back, her hand supporting his head as she lowered him down.   
"You did a good job, Mulder. You're all finished. I expect you to sleep and eat the rest   
of the time we're here. Doctor's orders. Understood?"  
  
Mulder was already asleep before she could finish the order. Scully gathered up his   
clothes and put them with the rest of his belongings.  
  
"How long do you suppose he'll sleep?" Skinner asked.  
  
Scully looked at Skinner, then Mulder, and shrugged. "If we're lucky, he'll sleep off and   
on for a day or two."  
  
Skinner shook his head. "That's insane," he replied. "I can't see how anyone can live   
like that."  
  
Scully shrugged again, not really wanting to say anything more on the subject. Instead   
she said, "I'd really like to know what happened at that meeting."  
  
"So would I."  
  
Their eyes met, and the same thought occurred to them. Putting a finger to her lips,   
Scully gestured for Skinner to follow her into her room through the connecting door. She   
left the door slightly ajar so that she would be able to hear Mulder if he needed her.  
  
Skinner took out his cell phone and dialed a number. Scully's cell phone rang, and she   
answered it. Skinner gestured for her to wait, then dialed a second number.  
  
"White."  
  
As Skinner spoke with White, Scully wondered briefly if all FBI agents answered the   
phone that way.  
  
Soon Skinner had all three lines connected so that each person could hear the other two.  
  
"What can I do for you?" White's voice sounded fatigued, and Scully almost hung up   
there and then, but she had to know.  
  
"What happened at the meeting?" Skinner asked.  
  
"Mulder gave SAC Douglas his profile and explained to the rest of us his theory," White   
replied.  
  
"What then?" Scully asked.  
  
White paused. Scully pushed harder. "Kevin, please. We have to know."  
  
"I don't know," White said. "Maybe Mulder-."  
  
"Mulder's not to be disturbed for a while," Scully cut him off. "Besides, he won't tell us   
everything. Please, Kevin, tell us."  
  
White sighed. "All right," he agreed. "But you didn't hear it from me."  
  
Scully exchanged a concerned look with Skinner. What had happened?  
  
"The presentation was solid," White began. "It filled in a lot of blanks. It even cleared   
up a few arguments. But none of it was what anyone wanted to hear."  
  
"What do you mean?" Skinner asked.  
  
"Well, some of the agents knew McKay when he was in his prime," White explained.   
"They didn't want to believe that he was responsible for something like this. So the   
ridiculing began."  
  
Scully felt her heart drop into her stomach. "What did they say?" she whispered.  
  
"Juvenile stuff, really," White said. "None of it seemed to phase Mulder. He just let it   
roll off his back and at the same time tried to point out the logic of his theory. Then   
someone mentioned that if Samantha had been one of the victims, he'd have worked   
harder to find the real killer."  
  
Scully sat heavily on the bed.  
  
"Mulder's face got so white I thought he was going to pass out from the shock," White   
continued. "When they saw that they'd struck a nerve, they kept going. I tried to stop   
them, but they ignored me."  
  
"It's okay, Kevin," Skinner said. He was boiling with fury. "What else?"  
  
"Douglas finally made them stop and thanked Mulder for wasting time and resources, and   
that while his help was 'appreciated', he said he had 'real work' to get done. Then he   
dismissed us," White finished quietly.  
  
"Thank you, Kevin," Skinner said, and hung up.  
  
Scully recovered from her shock and flung her phone across the room and into the wall.   
"How can anyone be that cruel?" she shouted. "Mulder nearly killed himself working on   
that case!"  
  
"Scully!" Skinner grabbed her shoulders and quieted her. "Mulder's asleep.   
Remember? Keep it down."  
  
Scully's colored, and she nodded. "Sir, we have got to get them to use Mulder's profile,"   
she said, her voice low. "That little girl only has two more days before she's dead. If she   
dies, it will kill Mulder."  
  
Skinner nodded. "I know," he replied. "I'll have a talk with Douglas later today. But   
first I need to make myself presentable. I suggest that you rest while you can. You've   
earned it."  
  
Scully waited for him to leave before slipping silently into Mulder's room. Mulder was   
asleep, but his face looked pained. He was in the beginnings of a nightmare. Scully   
crossed over to his side and cupped his cheek. She watched as the frightened look   
vanished and was replaced with one of peace.  
  
Scully smiled. "Pleasant dreams, Mulder." She gently kissed his forehead. Mulder   
mumbled something unintelligible and settled back into a deep sleep.  
  
SAC Douglas' office  
4:03 p.m.  
  
Douglas lounged comfortably, his feet propped up on his desk. He leafed through the   
profile Mulder had given him, having finally found the time to review it more thoroughly.  
  
As much as he hated 'Spooky' Mulder, he had to give the man credit. He knew his stuff.   
His profile, while completely different from previous theories, appeared to be right on   
track. In fact, once he set his men after McKay, it would only be a matter of time before   
he was caught, Suzie was recovered, and that alien-chasing spook of an agent could be   
sent back to his hole in the ground that he called an office.  
  
Douglas grinned and picked up the phone.  
  
His fingers halted, poised over the buttons, when his door opened and A.D. Skinner   
stepped inside the office. Douglas stood and nodded stiffly as Skinner sat down.  
  
"Sir, this is a surprise," he said, sitting back down. "Agent Mulder informed me that you   
Agent Scully were feeling a bit fatigued."  
  
"Yes, well, I came to see how the meeting went," Skinner said.  
  
"It went . . . well," Douglas said cautiously.  
  
"I see. Agent Mulder gave you his profile?"  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"And?  
  
"I have some men looking into it," Douglas replied. It wasn't exactly a lie; the minute   
the A.D. left he would put in the call. "But sir, I have to tell you . . . Agent Mulder is out   
on a limb with this one, and my men and I are a little reluctant to go out and join him.   
Joel McKay is a highly respected man."  
  
"He could be the damned President of the United States for all I care," Skinner snapped.   
"If he's the killer we're after, then he needs to be picked up."  
  
"Sir, I don't know what Agent Mulder may have told you . . ." Douglas began  
  
"He didn't say anything," Skinner cut him off. "He barely made it back before he fell   
asleep. Now, I'm not going to try and ask what happened at the meeting. It would just   
be a waste of time. I just came here to make sure that you use Agent Mulder's profile to   
catch the killer." He stood. "Good day, Agent Douglas."  
  
Douglas stared after him, his eyes narrow slits. He forced himself to regain control of his   
temper before he picked up the phone and made the call to bring McKay in. He was still   
seething over the meeting with Skinner, and decided to deal with Mulder and his profile   
discreetly.  
  
end 6/9  
  



	7. 7

The Better Part of Valor  
7/9  
  
Room 317  
6:48 p.m.  
  
The screams of a young girl tore through his soul. They were pained, frightened.  
  
And bloody.   
  
There was blood everywhere.  
  
On the ground.  
  
On her.  
  
On him.  
  
He stared at his blood-soaked hands, horrified. Then he looked down at the girl.  
  
Suzie Parker.  
  
Her features distorted and shifted.  
  
Samantha.  
  
Her eyes stared accusingly up at him.  
  
Lifeless.  
  
"NOOOOOOOOO!"  
  
Mulder wrenched teary eyes open and found that he was in someone's arms. He couldn't   
see who it was, but he recognized the scent. Scully. He'd recognize her scent anywhere.   
Mulder broke down into sobs and hugged her tightly as he cried onto her shoulder.  
  
Scully held Mulder and rocked him until he quieted down to tiny sniffles and soft   
whimpers. She had been expecting the nightmare to happen and hadn't been too startled   
when it finally came.  
  
"Mulder," she called softly. "Mulder, it's okay. You're safe now."  
  
Mulder took several deep breaths to steady himself before looking at Scully. He found   
that he couldn't even smile reassuringly at her.  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?" Scully asked.  
  
Mulder disentangled himself from her comforting arms and, sitting up, hugged his knees   
to his chest. "I had a nightmare," he began slowly. Scully nodded encouragingly.  
  
Mulder took another deep breath. "It was McKay- I was McKay," he corrected himself.   
"And Suzie . . . she was screaming. The blood . . . I couldn't get it off . . ." He began to   
tremble.  
  
Scully squeezed his hand, and Mulder continued. "But then . . . it wasn't her . . . it was   
Sam."  
  
He spoke so softly that Scully was afraid she'd misunderstood. But the look of guilt and   
fright on his face chased away all doubts in her mind.  
  
"Oh, Mulder." Scully brushed away his tears and hugged him. Mulder burst into tears   
again and leaned heavily into Scully's embrace.  
  
"It's okay," Scully whispered. "It was just a dream. Nothing more. It's all right."  
  
She repeated the mantra until he settled down. After several silent moments, Scully   
realized that Mulder had cried himself into exhaustion.  
  
Scully gently pried Mulder from her arms, tucked him into bed, and was about to head   
back to her room when there came sharp, insistent pounds on the door.  
  
Skinner stood on the other side, his skin pasty white and his gun drawn. "I heard   
shouting. Are you okay?"  
  
Despite the situation, Scully began to laugh. It began as soft giggles but soon escalated   
into loud guffaws, startling Skinner and waking Mulder.  
  
"Wha's so funny?" Mulder slurred sleepily.  
  
Scully bit down on her lower lip to stifle her laughter. Once she managed to regain her   
composure, she spoke.  
  
"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. No, sir, everything's fine. We're both   
fine. It's nothing."  
  
Skinner studied her face, looking for some sign to indicate anything otherwise. Finding   
nothing, he said, "Scully, maybe you should get some sleep."  
  
At this, Mulder began to laugh. Scully's face became the shade of red as her hair.   
Skinner walked back to his room, wondering if he would ever be able to figure out his   
two agents.  
  
Room 317  
April 27th  
6:29 a.m.  
  
Mulder awoke feeling rested and refreshed. He decided to take the opportunity to go for   
a quick run before breakfast.  
  
The air was crisp and clean as Mulder paced himself around the city block. The fresh   
scent of the early morning invigorated him, and he pushed himself to go a little faster.  
  
He returned to the hotel without incident and jumped into a hot shower. He donned on   
his jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers when he heard a knock at his door. He paused slightly   
before opening it, uncertain as to who would be on the other side.  
  
White stood nervously behind the door. Seeing his expression, Mulder knew that what he   
had to say wasn't good news.  
  
"Kev, what's wrong?" he asked.  
  
White shifted uncomfortably. "Douglas wants to see you right away. They caught   
McKay."  
  
"That's great!" Mulder grinned. "I'll wake Scully and Skinner, and-."  
  
"No," White interrupted. "Douglas' orders were that I bring you. We caught McKay and   
he confessed to everything. Including to the fact that he still has Suzie holed up   
somewhere near a bunch of dynamite and plastique."  
  
The color drained from Mulder's face. "Oh God," he breathed. "How much time-?"  
  
"We don't know," White said. "Come on. "There's no need to disturb Dana and the   
A.D. with this, since there's nothing for them to do."  
  
Mulder nodded and followed White, not bothering to grab a jacket or leave a note. All he   
could think about was the scared little girl who was running out of time.  
  
Interrogation room  
8:14 a.m.  
  
Joel McKay sat calmly in his chair, his hands on the table before him. Across the table   
sat a tall, thin man, with brown hair, dark eyes, and dressed casually. He had introduced   
himself as Agent Mulder, then had fallen silent as he stared at him. McKay grinned.  
  
"How may I help you?" he asked in mock politeness.  
  
Mulder shrugged. "You could tell me where Suzie is."  
  
McKay's grin grew wider. He knew this game. He had played it many times before,   
back when he was still a cop himself. "That depends."  
  
Mulder didn't bat an eye. He waited patiently for McKay to continue.  
  
"What can you do for me?"  
  
Mulder glanced down at the surface of the table, then back up at McKay. "I don't know,"   
he replied honestly. "After all, you did murder sixteen children. And I don't have much   
pull around here. But I could try and see what I could do."  
  
McKay glanced over at the one-way mirror, then turned back to Mulder. "Are you   
finished?"  
  
"Finished?" Mulder repeated evenly.  
  
"You know what I mean," McKay said. "This is getting to be monotonous. You ask   
where the hostage is, I ask for a deal, yadda yadda yadda . . ."  
  
"Where is Suzie?" Mulder asked again.  
  
McKay remained silent.  
  
Mulder's cool exterior was beginning to slip. "Look," he said. "Suzie is innocent. She   
didn't do anything to deserve this. None of those kids did. They were happy until you   
decided to take that from them. You put their families through hell. I've read about you.   
I've heard about you. Your wife was right to take her children and leave."  
  
Mulder knew that he'd crossed a line, but he didn't care. McKay's face became   
overcame with rage. "Our children," he corrected, his voice dangerously low. "Brian   
and Katie are our children."  
  
Mulder shook his head sadly. "They were your children until you changed all that. You   
threatened them. Don't you see? All this time you've been blaming the wrong people."   
His voice lowered to a whisper. "But it was your fault."  
  
McKay's expression turned murderous, and he lunged across the table at Mulder. The   
two toppled to the ground, McKay on top and throwing swing after swing. Mulder   
managed to block the blows, but a few slipped through and connected.  
  
Finally McKay was pulled off of Mulder and cuffed. He twisted to see Mulder as he was   
led away, shouting, "I'm gonna kill you, you son of a bitch! Just you wait! I'll kill you   
myself!"  
  
Mulder got unsteadily to his feet and righted his chair, which had fallen with him. A   
hand gently touched his shoulder, and he jumped.  
  
"Relax, man, it's me." White shook his head once he got a good look at Mulder. "That   
asshole got you pretty good. Let's get you cleaned up and to the clinic."  
  
"Kevin, I'm fine," Mulder protested firmly. "I don't need a clinic."  
  
"Mulder, I really think you should listen." White's voice was almost fearful.  
  
Mulder stared curiously at his friend. "Why?"  
  
"Mulder!"  
  
At the sound of the familiar voice, Mulder quickly began to wipe the blood from his face,   
at the same time shooting an accusing look at White. White shrugged apologetically.  
  
"She called me ten minutes ago asking where you were," he explained. "I had to tell her.   
Sorry, man. Good luck."  
  
White ducked out of sight just as Scully entered the room. Her eyes widened at the sight   
of him.  
  
"God, I can't leave you alone for a minute," she said. She pointed to his chair, which   
Mulder obediently sat in. Scully picked McKay's chair from the floor and placed it under   
the table before crossing her arms and standing over him.  
  
Mulder saw the irritation, anger, and concern play across her features and knew that she   
was annoyed that he had left without a clue as to where. Assuming the whipped puppy   
'it's-all-my-fault' look that was second nature to him, he said, "It wasn't up to me to   
leave you alone."  
  
Scully's gaze didn't waver.  
  
"You needed your rest."  
  
She still didn't move.  
  
"It was thoughtless of me not to leave you a note telling you what I was doing. I'm   
sorry."  
  
Scully's gaze softened, and she lifted Mulder's chin to get a better look at his face. "You   
need to get cleaned up before an infection sets in," she stated.  
  
Mulder looked over at the one-way mirror and was stunned at what he saw. He had a   
bruise just beginning to form on his cheek, a split lip, and a good-sized gash over his   
right eye from where his head had made contact with the edge of the metal table. He   
lightly touched the cut, wincing when it sent pain shooting into his skull. "Uh, Scully?   
Could we leave?"  
  
Scully frowned, puzzled. She glanced at the mirror and nodded. "Come on. Skinner   
wants to meet us for breakfast, and I don't think he'll be too pleased with you showing up   
like that."  
  
Mulder grinned lopsidedly and followed Scully from the view of the spectators behind   
the mirror.  
  
Eatin' Park  
9:23 a.m.  
  
Mulder stared down curiously at his order, the 'Breakfast Smile'. It was a plate of two   
eggs, sausages, and hash browns with toast on the side. He wondered why it was called a   
'Breakfast Smile'. It wasn't smiling, and it certainly wasn't making him smile either. He   
looked at Skinner's danish and coffee and Scully's toast and melon slice and began to   
have second thoughts about his meal.  
  
"Did McKay drop any kinds of clue as to where he's stashed the girl?" Skinner's voice   
brought him back to the conversation.  
  
Mulder pushed a piece of sausage into an egg before answering. "No. But I get the   
feeling he may already have."  
  
"How?" Scully spoke up. "And when? He hasn't been in contact with us long enough or   
in any way for us to determine anything."  
  
Mulder scowled down at his breakfast as he pushed the food around to create patterns.   
He was deep in thought, unaware of the curious stares he was receiving. His fork moved   
of its own volition, arranging the food around until . . .  
  
"The letter!" he exclaimed.  
  
Scully nearly fell out of her chair at the outburst, and Skinner forced his hand not to spill   
steaming hot coffee all over his suit. All around them, patrons were glaring.  
  
"What about the letter?" Skinner asked.  
  
"McKay left a challenge in the letter," Mulder explained. "He also used figurative   
language such as 'angel', 'pray', and even 'God'. That could mean that he was referring   
to a church."  
  
"But there must be hundreds of churches in Pittsburgh," Scully countered.  
  
Mulder nodded. "McKay's letter also mentioned him killing two or three kids."  
  
"That could mean anything," Scully stated.  
  
"I think it's significant," Mulder replied. "The 'two' and 'three' could give us a more   
exact location."  
  
"Or it could all be a coincidence," Scully argued.  
  
Mulder shrugged. "If you've got a better idea about how or where to find Suzie, go   
ahead."  
  
Scully pursed her lips and remained silent. Skinner cleared his throat.  
  
"Ah, Agent Mulder," he said. "I don't mean to sound disbelieving, but you read the letter   
two days ago. How can you be sure that that's what was on it?"  
  
Mulder tapped his forehead. "Photographic memory. I can remember that letter word-  
for-word, or even a birthday card when I turned three."  
  
"Not two?" Scully teased.  
  
Mulder returned her gaze with a smirk. "Kids that are two don't read birthday cards.   
They set them on fire with the birthday candles."  
  
"I'll remember that this year," Scully said.  
  
"Getting back to the letter . . ." Skinner prodded.  
  
"Yeah," Mulder said, flushing slightly. "Well, the 'two' or 'three' could be a street, an   
address, the number of miles to our to or from a certain location . . .  
  
"But how do we know what?" Skinner asked.  
  
Mulder fell silent again, contemplating the question. The truth was, he had absolutely no   
idea what the numbers stood for. Unconsciously he began to slide into McKay's mind,   
seeing the murders, watching the abuses, hearing the screams . . .  
  
Scully set her iced tea down and grasped Mulder's arm. She knew the faraway look all   
too well, and seeing it now frightened her. Skinner glanced from Scully to Mulder, and   
back to Scully. "What's wrong?" he asked. He'd been asking that question far too many   
times the past four days.  
  
"He's doing it again," Scully said angrily. "Dammit! Mulder, come back to me! Snap   
out of it!"  
  
Skinner was about to ask Scully exactly what Mulder was doing again, but he recognized   
the pale, waxen face from the front of the daycare center. He also remembered the results   
of that afternoon.  
  
Mulder heard Scully's voice faintly, but he couldn't make out the words. They reached   
his ears garbled. He was about to turn back when he was presented with a tall Catholic   
church that appeared to be old and no longer in use. It was built with bricks, and the   
broken stained-glass windows were boarded up. The cross that stood at the top of the   
steeple had only three sides; the fourth having broken off long ago. There was another   
cross above the doorway in the same condition.  
  
Mulder entered the church and climbed up the stairs to the choir loft. Little Suzie Parker   
lay bound and gagged in the center of the room, surrounded by enough dynamite to   
destroy half of the city block.  
  
Suddenly, as if sensing the intrusion, McKay abruptly shut his mind down to Mulder.   
There was excruciating pain, then darkness.   
  
When he opened his eyes again, Mulder's first thought was the sterile scent of the air.   
Hadn't he been in a restaurant?"  
  
More of his sight returned, and he found that he was lying. On a bed.  
  
In a hospital.  
  
A quick survey of his room showed that he was indeed in a hospital, and alone. His   
clothes had been exchanged for a hospital gown. Mulder frowned. How long had he   
been out?  
  
He sat up quickly, regretting the action as it sent waves of dizziness rolling through him.   
Carelessly he extracted the IV sticking in his arm and stood. He took several steps before   
weakness overcame him, and he sank to his knees, holding his head.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?"  
  
Mulder heard Scully the same time he felt her hands on his arms, steadying him.   
Someone else entered the room, and Mulder was hauled to his feet and helped back into   
bed. He looked up and saw Skinner's concerned expression and immediately began to   
blush. Had he passed out in front of his boss again?  
  
"What am I doing here?" he asked, working furiously to keep his emotions in check.  
  
"You collapsed at the restaurant," Scully answered. "You were brought here when we   
couldn't wake you up. Aside from the slight concussion you got from hitting your head   
against the floor, the doctors also found you to be devoid of fluids in your system."  
  
She didn't need to continue. Her look said it all. Mulder had been caught. He hadn't   
been able to keep anything down when he had been writing the profile. He had been too   
tired to do anything but sleep the day before. Hell, he was having trouble keeping a glass   
of water down.  
  
"How long have I been here?" Mulder asked, ignoring Scully's stern glare.  
  
"Almost five hours," Skinner offered.  
  
Mulder stared at him in disbelief. "What!"  
  
"And you might as well get comfortable," Scully added. "You're going to stay here until   
you are able to keep food in your stomach. We'll handle the case from here."  
  
Mulder remembered why he had ended up in the hospital in the first place, and he   
became excited.  
  
"Scully, I know where Suzie is! I saw her! She was in a church, and she is around some   
dynamite. A lot of it! It's an old church, abandoned, broken down, in a desolate   
neighborhood, and two crosses have only three sides, and-."  
  
"Whoa! Slow down," Scully laughed. "Take it easy. Now, do you know where this   
church is?"  
  
Mulder became crestfallen, his eyes cast downward. He had been so thrilled at   
discovering where Suzie was that he had forgotten to see where the church was.  
  
Scully saw the depression and guilt play across his features, and she patted his hand.   
"It's okay," she assured him. "You gave us more to go on than those assholes at the field   
office. With Kevin's help and your information, Suzie should be safely back with her   
family tonight."  
  
"Good job, Mulder," Skinner praised. "Now get some rest. Consider yourself under   
orders."  
  
Scully took out a tissue and held it against the blood seeping out of Mulder's arm. "I'll   
call the nurse and have someone restart the IV."  
  
Mulder took the tissue from her. "Scully, come on! I do not need a needle sticking out   
of me. Lord knows that Satan's staff will be poking me with enough of them!"  
  
"Consider it penance for not taking better care of yourself," Scully replied. "Now behave   
yourself or else."  
  
"Or else what?" Mulder challenged.  
  
"Or else I'll have them insert a catheter," Scully shot back.  
  
Mulder gulped and crossed his legs. "You wouldn't."  
  
"Wouldn't I?" Smiling sweetly, Scully patted his knee and strode from the room. Once   
she was gone, Skinner turned to Mulder with an amused look on his face.  
  
"I don't see what's so funny," Mulder said sullenly.  
  
Skinner let out a tiny laugh. "You should've seen the look on your face when she   
suggested the catheter. She doesn't exactly play by the rules, doe she?"  
  
"No sir," Mulder replied. "She does. We both know that different situations call for a   
whole new set of rules. At times it can be a real pain in the ass. Other times it's saved   
our lives."  
  
Scully returned with a middle-aged woman wearing pink and carrying the equipment   
needed for an IV. She was full of news as she cleansed a new area for a needle on   
Mulder's arm.  
  
"Did you know that they caught that awful man who was killing all those children?" she   
asked. "Joel McKay. He came in here a few times when he or his partner Danny Travis   
got sick or hurt. I was there when Danny died. Joel just cried and screamed . . ." The   
nurse trailed off and sighed. "What a shame. They were such good men. Anyway, they   
finally got him. Took forever, too. I heard some agents even came in from D.C., but   
they weren't much help."  
  
"Where did you hear that?" Scully demanded.  
  
"Why, it's all over the news." The nurse, finished with the IV, turned on the TV and   
flipped through the channels before finally coming to a news report. "I'd stay and watch   
with you, but duty calls." She left the room in a flurry.  
  
The three agents never noticed her departure. They were too busy listening as Douglas   
credited the entire team, naming them last and dismissively. Watching the team receive   
showers of praise and gratitude from the victims' families, then from the mayor. Praise   
for doing a job they never finished. Gratitude they didn't need or deserve.  
  
Skinner angrily turned off the TV and stormed from the room. Scully looked back at   
Mulder to find his eyes closed, and his breathing steady. Leaning close, she took his   
hand and brushed his hair from his forehead.  
  
"For what it's worth," she whispered, "I think that you're a much better person than any   
of those idiots. You should be proud of the work you did. Skinner is, and so am I."  
  
She softly kissed his forehead, then stole silently from the room. Only when Mulder was   
all alone did he allow a single tear to fall.  
  
end 7/9  
  



	8. 8

The Better Part of Valor  
8/9  
  
St. Cecilia's Church  
2:42 p.m.  
  
Scully stared up at the old church as Skinner and White joined her from the two cars.   
She was amazed at how accurate Mulder's description was, and with a glance to Skinner,   
she could see that he was equally stunned.  
  
"I radioed in the location," White reported. "SAC Douglas is on his way with some men   
and a bomb squad. They'll be here soon."  
  
Skinner nodded. "We'll wait five minutes, then go in and assess the situation. There's   
no telling if the bomb is on a timer or if there's a trigger somewhere on the grounds."  
  
The five minutes passed agonizingly slow. When it finally ended, Scully led the small   
group cautiously into the supposedly-booby-trapped building.  
  
Pittsburgh Memorial Hospital  
2:46 p.m.  
  
"Scully! No!"  
  
Mulder sat up in his bed, panting heavily and covered in a sheen of sweat. The nightmare   
had been so real . . . it was real. He wasn't sure how or why he seemed to be having such   
prophetic dreams, and he didn't care. All he knew was that Scully, and Skinner and   
White, were in terrible danger. He had to get to them.  
  
The same nurse that had restarted his IV ran into the room, a look of horror on her face.   
She relaxed when she saw that her patient was safe.  
  
"Hon, why on Earth were you screaming like that?" she asked, fixing his pillows more   
comfortably behind him. "You nearly scared everyone on the floor to death."  
  
"Where're my clothes?" Mulder countered.  
  
"They're in storage," the nurse, whose nametag read Jackie, replied. "That's where   
they're going to stay until your friends come to take you home."  
  
"No." Mulder thought fast. "I need something in them."  
  
"I'll get it for you," Jackie volunteered.  
  
"No!" Mulder exclaimed. "No, that's okay. You have other things to do. Besides, I'd   
rather get it myself. It's kind of personal." He gave her his most endearing look.   
"Please?"  
  
Jackie's face softened. "All right," she agreed. "I'll be right back."  
  
Mulder watched her go, feeling guilty for what he was about to do. His only reason for   
sneaking out was because of a nightmare.  
  
But this was Scully. And Skinner. And White.  
  
He'd gladly risk the anger and annoyance if it meant that his friends were safe.  
  
Jackie returned and gave him a bag containing his clothes, then left at his insistence.   
Once he was sure that she was gone, Mulder slid off the bed and quickly began to change   
into his jeans and T-shirt. He hoped that his efforts were all for nothing.  
  
Unfortunately, a feeling in the pit of his stomach told him otherwise.  
  
St. Cecilia's Church  
  
Skinner awoke with a pounding headache and was surprised to find that he was on the   
ground. He tried to get up only to discover that he was pinned beneath several wooden   
beams from the ceiling and wall. His head cleared, and he remembered the explosion.  
  
It had been fairly small, but effective. They hadn't been inside the church for more than   
a few minutes when the force shook the aged structure, knocking loose part of the ceiling   
and wall. Skinner recalled shoving Scully aside, then blacking out.  
  
Fire danced all around him, making visibility difficult. It took several moments before he   
could locate Scully's still form a few feet to his left.  
  
"Scully!" he croaked. "Are you okay?"  
  
He heard her moan and saw her move slightly, but that was all. Skinner looked around   
for White until he heard the other agent move to his side.  
  
"Sir, are you all right?" White asked.  
  
"I'm fine," Skinner replied. "Just stuck. Get me out from under here!"   
  
He heard White shuffle around. After several strained grunts, he heard White speak   
again. "I'm sorry, sir. I can't move it. I need help."  
  
Skinner sighed. He'd figured as much. "It's all right," he said. "Get Scully out of here."  
  
"But-," White began to protest.  
  
"That's an order, Agent!" Skinner snapped.  
  
"Yes sir." White moved quickly to Scully's side and helped her to her feet. Scully was   
barely conscious and leaned heavily into White's supporting arms. As they picked their   
way around the flames and debris, White called, "Hold tight sir. I'll send help in."  
  
Skinner forced himself to relax as he watched the fire around him grow in intensity.  
  
***  
  
Mulder paid the taxi driver his fare and jumped into the melee of police officers, field   
agents, firemen, EMTs, and the rest of the massive crowd. He flashed his badge to one   
cop and slipped past the barricade in time to see two figures emerge from the church. His   
blood ran cold when he identified them.  
  
"Oh my God." Mulder ran up to White, staring at the blood seeping from Scully's   
forehead. "Is she-?"  
  
"We're fine," White answered. "Skinner's still trapped inside!"  
  
Mulder immediately turned and ran into the burning building. White called out to stop   
him, but he was ignored.  
  
Several medics swarmed around the two of them, leading Scully to a waiting ambulance.   
White shook off their help and headed straight for Douglas.  
  
"Sir, A.D. Skinner's still trapped inside," he informed the SAC. "Agent Mulder went in   
after him. He's going to need help."  
  
Douglas nodded and held his walkie-talkie to his mouth. "Jacobs! Preston! Move in!   
Get the A.D. and get out!"  
  
The two agents addressed instantly left the throng of people for the burning building.   
White watched them go, then turned when he heard Scully call his name.  
  
Scully tossed a glare at a trailing medic, then looked at White. "Kevin, is Mulder here?"  
  
"Not exactly," White admitted. "He's in there." He pointed at the church.  
  
"What!" Scully tried to run to church, but White grabbed her arms. "Kevin, let me go!   
He shouldn't be in there! He shouldn't even be here! What the hell is he doing out of the   
hospital?"  
  
"Dana!" White shouted. "I don't know exactly what's going on, but Jacobs and Preston   
went in after him."  
  
Scully gave him an icy glare. "That makes me feel a lot better."  
  
"Dana," White said.  
  
Scully sighed. "I'm sorry, Kevin," she apologized. "I didn't mean to snap at you. But   
when Mulder gets out of there, I'm going to kill him."  
  
White smiled faintly. "God help him."  
  
Helpless to do anything else, the two watched as the fire grew stronger, despite the   
firemen's attempts to extinguish it.  
  
***  
  
Fire.  
  
Of all of the elements to deal with, it had to be fire.  
  
Mulder shoved his blinding fear aside as he raced to where he saw his boss' prone form.   
He knelt beside Skinner and felt for a pulse.  
  
Skinner coughed. "White? I thought I gave you an order."  
  
"You did, sir," Mulder replied. "He followed it. Hang on. I'm going to get you out of   
here."  
  
Skinner turned his head to watch Mulder as the younger man hunted around for a board   
or pipe to act as a lever. "Mulder? You should be in the hospital. Get out of here."  
  
"I plan to, sir," Mulder said. He found a thin metal pipe about his size. "Just as soon as I   
get you out of there."  
  
"As I recall, I ordered you to rest," Skinner continued. "Is this more insubordination?"  
  
"You're damn straight." Mulder wedged the pipe beneath the board causing the most   
problems. "Get ready to slide out."  
  
Gritting his teeth, Mulder forced the pipe down, using most of his weight. At first it   
didn't appear to work. Eventually, enough of the weight had been lifted and Skinner   
easily pushed himself out. Mulder helped Skinner up, hooked the A.D.'s arm around his   
neck, and began to guide him out.  
  
Jacobs suddenly appeared and took the A.D. from Mulder. "Back off Mulder," he   
ordered. "We've got him."  
  
Preston took Skinner's other arm and they slowly made their way to freedom when   
Mulder stopped. The sound of muffled cries reached his ears, and he turned and ran up   
the stairs to the loft.  
  
Scully ran up to the three figures exiting the building, White close behind. Skinner was   
choking from the lack of oxygen, barely standing on his own feet as he was supported.   
As the group walked to the ever-alert medics, Scully looked at Jacobs. "Where's   
Mulder?"  
  
Jacobs glanced behind him, then at Scully. "He was right behind me. I don't-."  
  
He was cut off as another explosion shook the air and weakened the already half-  
collapsed structure of the church.  
  
"Mulder!" Scully yelled.  
  
***  
  
Mulder came to in the choir loft in extreme pain. He momentarily wondered where he   
was as he struggled to his feet.  
  
The minute he put pressure on his left foot he gasped and nearly crumpled. Lightning   
bolts of white-hot pain shot through the leg, creating black spots before his eyes. He   
surrendered to the panic and terror surging through him.  
  
*Oh God oh God oh God* he thought, glancing around wildly and somehow managing to   
stay upright. *It had to be fire. As if I hadn't suffered enough. I have to deal with fire.*  
  
Mulder almost turned back when he again heard the cries, this time mingling with   
coughs. With fear and pain warring against each other and threatening to overwhelm   
him, Mulder searched for the source of the noises.  
  
Pushing aside several broken pews and parts of an organ, he found a small girl, bound   
and gagged. She looked up at Mulder with large, fearful brown eyes. Her long brown   
hair was a tangled mess around her head. She wore a simple jean jumper with a bright   
pink shirt. Mulder felt a pang of remorse; she reminded him of his own sister at that age.  
  
Kneeling beside her, he said, "Suzie? My name is Fox." The girl, despite her obvious   
distress, looked at Mulder with interest as he worked to untie her. "I'm a policeman. I'm   
going to get you out of here and to your parents. Okay?"  
  
He smiled reassuringly at the young child, and she nodded. Scooping the girl into his   
arms, he began the arduous process of dodging the flaming debris to escape into freedom.  
  
***  
  
Scully paced impatiently along the length of the back of an ambulance where Skinner sat   
receiving attention to his wounds. Skinner held an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth   
to control his breathing.  
  
"Mulder's not dead. He can't be dead. He has to survive, because I have to kill him for   
doing this to me." Scully was ranting, seemingly unaware that she was doing so. "What   
in God's name possessed him to come here? To go in there? To stay in there?"  
  
"Scully!" The mask muffled Skinner's words. "Calm down. Mulder's been through   
worse and survived. He'll be fine."  
  
Scully glared at him, then sighed. "I know," she replied softly. "I know. But I don't like   
it."  
  
Cries of surprise from the crowd drowned out the rest of the conversation. Scully and   
Skinner pushed through to the front, then stopped to stare in astonishment at the sight   
before them.  
  
***  
  
Mulder never thought the stairs would end. He was sure that he was going to slip and   
fall, taking Suzie down with him. Miraculously, he hit the last step and burst out the   
door, thanking whatever brilliant soul that decided to put the two next to each other.  
  
The feeling was short-lived, however, when a final explosion that was larger than the   
previous two sent him and Suzie flying through the air. Mulder clutched the child tighter   
to his chest, taking the brunt of the fall to protect Suzie. He winced and groaned as his   
injured foot was jarred and twisted again and again.  
  
They finally rolled to a stop, Suzie lying on Mulder and clinging to Mulder's neck for   
dear life. Mulder's eyes were closed to prevent the tears of pain that were ready to fall.   
He felt Suzie being pried from his death grip, then felt himself being lifted and settled on   
a stretcher.  
  
"Mulder?"  
  
Mulder forced himself to open his eyes and focused on a blurry image of Scully. He saw   
the white patch of gauze on her forehead and reached up to touch it. "Are you all right?"  
  
Scully took his hand and lowered it, but didn't release it. "I'm fine," she said. "Rest   
while you can. When you're well enough, I'm going to kick your ass."  
  
Mulder let out a weak laugh, trying to speak through his coughs. "Ooh . . . can hardly . . .   
wait . . ."  
  
"Down, boy." Scully moved out of his line of sight and let go of his hand. A mask was   
placed over his nose and mouth, making it easier to breathe. The stretcher beneath him   
began to move, and Mulder became frightened. He reached his hand out as if reaching   
for something. "Scully . . ."  
  
Scully's hand slid into his, and Mulder felt her fingers brush through his hair. "It's   
okay," she soothed. "I'm right here. I'm not leaving you."  
  
Mulder heaved a deep sigh of relief, then finally gave in to the peaceful oblivion that had   
been hovering over him. Scully never released his hand as he was loaded into the   
ambulance and taken away.  
  
White watched the exchange, a small feeling of satisfaction creeping into him. He was   
glad that his old friend had found someone to care about him as much as Scully did. He   
turned back to the sight that had previously held him captivated, shaking his head in   
disbelief before climbing into his car and driving away.  
  
All that was left of St. Cecilia's church was a large pile of mortar, wood, and cement.  
  
end 8/9  
  



	9. 9

The Better Part of Valor  
9/9  
  
Pittsburgh Memorial Hospital  
April 30th  
3:07 p.m.  
  
Mulder sat on top of his hospital bed, anxious for Scully to complete the release forms   
that would free him from the torture chamber that everyone seemed determined to call a   
hospital. He knew that he was supposed to stay longer because he hadn't yet reached his   
ideal weight, but he had promised to take care of himself. Also, since the flight to D.C.   
wasn't until the next day, Scully had assured the doctors that she would personally look   
after him until then.  
  
He remembered awakening in the same room as he had earlier that day, only to find that   
Jackie was furious. Mulder knew that if Scully hadn't been with him the first two days,   
she probably would have left Mulder without an arm or a leg.  
  
As it was, his left leg had been broken, only to have been displaced in the tumble outside   
of the church. He had other scrapes and bruises, but they had healed- or were healing-   
nicely. His leg was wrapped tightly in a cast, which had caused problems for Mulder   
when he was trying to fit into his jeans. Luckily Scully had found a pair large enough to   
slide over the cast without causing him too much pain. He also wore an oversized forest-  
green sweater that brought out his hazel eyes and complimented his dark brown hair. He   
hadn't wanted to wear it, but it was either the sweater or a few more days in the hospital.  
  
"Okay, Mulder," Scully announced. "You're free to go."  
  
Mulder grinned broadly and stretched his hands out to the crutches that were just out of   
his reach. He looked over at Scully, who was fighting to keep an amused smile off of her   
face.  
  
"Uh, Scully?" he asked. "When you're finished laughing at me, do you think you could   
help me out?"  
  
Scully gave in to her laughter and crossed the room. She took the crutches and was about   
to comply when three newcomers entered the room.  
  
Suzie Parker ran up to Mulder and looked shyly up at him. Her parents, Tom and Linda,   
smiled their greetings.  
  
"We heard you were being let go today, so we decided to come by before you left to see   
you," Linda explained. "Suzie wanted to give you something."  
  
Mulder lifted Suzie onto the bed beside him. He was glad to see that she was none the   
worse for wear from her experience.  
  
"I drew you a picture." Suzie handed him a paper containing two stick figures, a tall one   
holding a smaller one. Both had brown hair and eyes and red mouths. The big figure   
held one hand out to a small drawing of orange triangles that appeared to be fire.  
  
"It's you and me," Suzie continued. "Thank you for saving me from that bad man."  
  
She reached over and gave Mulder a hug. Mulder was speechless as she kissed him on   
the cheek.  
  
"Thank you, Suzie," Mulder managed to say.  
  
Suzie grinned and hopped down from the bed, returning to her parents. Tom lifted her   
into his arms. "We can't thank you enough for what you did . . ." he said.  
  
Mulder held up the picture. "You already did," he replied.  
  
Linda hugged Mulder, then Scully. Tom shook hands with them, and the three of them   
left the room. Scully watched them go and turned back to Mulder. Mulder was staring   
down at the picture, tears swimming in his eyes. Scully moved closer to get a better look   
at the drawing.  
  
"I think it's an incredible likeness." Scully poked Mulder's abdomen to further illustrate   
the joke.  
  
Mulder smiled and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.  
  
"You okay?" Scully asked.  
  
"Fine." Mulder sighed and pocketed the picture. "Let's get out of here."  
  
Slowly hobbling away on his crutches, because he refused the wheelchair, Mulder   
managed to make it out the front door. Since his head was done, eyes searching for   
obstacles, he was taken completely by surprise when dozens of microphones and tiny   
cassette recorders were shoved into his face. He looked up at the cameras and expectant   
reporters blocking the way to freedom. A quick look at Scully told him that she was   
equally stunned.  
  
"Agent Mulder, is it true that you were the one to write the profile to catch Joel McKay?"  
  
"Agent Mulder, is it true that you solved the case after only three days?"  
  
"Agent Mulder . . ."  
  
Mulder raised his hand for silence. "I don't know exactly what you've been told, so let   
me set some things straight," he announced. "A.D. Skinner, Agent Scully, and myself   
arrived a week ago to offer our assistance on the case. The entire team is responsible for   
the apprehension of McKay, not any one individual. The fact that McKay was caught   
shortly after our arrival is little more than a coincidence. That's all. We're all glad that   
we were able to bring the families of those unfortunate children some peace of mind."  
  
He ignored the reporters' protests as he pushed his way through the crowd. He heard   
Scully wave them away and felt her supporting hand on his back. It wasn't until they   
reached their rental car that he saw Skinner holding the front passenger door open.  
  
"You could've really embarrassed the agents down at the field office," Skinner   
commented.  
  
Mulder gave him a weary look. "There would have been no point," he replied. "I do my   
job because I feel good about helping people. I know I do good work. My head doesn't   
need to get swelled any bigger."  
  
He climbed into his seat, surrendering his crutches to Scully. "Let's go back to the hotel.   
I'm exhausted."  
  
Mulder closed his eyes and was asleep before Skinner started the car and drove back to   
the hotel.  
  
Room 317  
6:57 p.m.  
  
Mulder was roused from the depths of sleep by several knocks on his door. He groaned   
and buried his face into his pillows, hoping that whoever it was would get the hint and go   
away.  
  
Scully poked her head through the doorway that connected their rooms. "Aren't you   
going to answer your door?"  
  
"If it's Tina, or Cindy, or Beth, or one of the other girls on the staff, tell them we're   
married or something," Mulder's muffled voice replied. "Ever since they saw me on the   
news I never seem to have enough towels."  
  
Scully laughed and walked the rest of the way into the room. "Come on sleepyhead," she   
coaxed. "You have to see this."  
  
Mulder lifted his head and looked at Scully. "See what?"  
  
Scully shook her head.  
  
His curiosity piqued, Mulder retrieved his crutches from the floor by his bed. He'd been   
too tired to put them anywhere else, or even change. He'd just flopped onto the bed and   
immediately fell asleep.  
  
Mulder opened the door. Seeing no one behind it, he looked down the hallway to find it   
empty. He was about to ask Scully if he was the victim of some kind of prank when he   
glanced down at his feet.  
  
A basket sat on the ground, containing an assortment of flowers, fruit, candy, a stuffed   
brown bear, and many thank you and get well cards. Some cards were bought; the rest   
were handmade.  
  
Scully gently pushed him aside so she could lift and carry the basket into the room and   
set it on the table. Her face bore a large grin.  
  
"Kevin delivered them," she explained. "Skinner and I got baskets, too. They're from   
the families of the children that were murdered. Kevin said that these were the Parkers'   
idea."  
  
Mulder sat in a chair as if in a trance. His expressive eyes were filled with surprise and   
appreciation. "But they didn't have to . . . Like I told Skinner-."  
  
"Did it ever occur to you, Mulder, that sometimes you might need to feel appreciated?"   
Scully gently interjected. "That's every bit as important as the rest of your job."  
  
Mulder grew thoughtful for a minute before nodding. "Where is Kevin, by the way?   
And how did those reporters find out so much?"  
  
"Well," Scully said. "To answer your first question, Skinner wanted to finish some   
business at the office before we left, and Kevin gave him a ride. I don't know what kind   
of business, but we're going to meet them for dinner in about an hour. As for your   
second question, Kevin gave me a videotape. He said that you might find it interesting."   
She rose and slid the tape she had taken from her room into the VCR and turned both it   
and the TV on.  
  
"What's on it?" Mulder asked.  
  
"Watch," Scully replied. "You'll see."  
  
On the screen was a news report of the events as they took place at the church. Mulder   
and Scully watched as they saw Mulder and several other agents enter the church. When   
the scene of Mulder and Suzie tumbling to the ground ended, the image was replaced   
with one of White and the anchorperson. White was explaining to her and the camera   
who Mulder was and how he, Scully, and Skinner and spent their every waking moment   
working to catch the killer and find Suzie. He refrained from mentioning the difficulties   
that the D.C. agents had been having with the Pittsburgh agents, but his tone of voice told   
another story. The report ended with promises of updates on Suzie's and Mulder's   
conditions, and the screen went blank.  
  
Scully ejected the tape and turned to see Mulder holding the stuffed bear and gazing at it.   
Scully pushed her chair closer to Mulder and sat down. She touched his forearm,   
capturing his attention.  
  
"What's wrong?" she asked softly.  
  
"Nothing," Mulder replied. "Just thinking."  
  
"About what?"  
  
A pause. "About how different everything could have turned out. Not just if I had taken   
the case, but if I had stayed in the hospital."  
  
"Skinner and Suzie might not have made it," Scully told him.  
  
Mulder shook his head. "Douglas sent men in after Skinner. He would have survived   
anyhow. What's bothering me is that . . . I completely forgot about Suzie. After the   
second explosion I almost left without her."  
  
"Mulder, that's perfectly understandable," Scully said. "Don't be so hard on yourself.   
No one thought to get Suzie. No one even tried. But you did. You saved her life.   
You're a hero, and you're just going to have to accept that."  
  
Mulder smiled faintly. "No choice, huh?"  
  
"Nope." A thought struck Scully. "Speaking of leaving the hospital, how did you   
happen to make your way to the church? 'I didn't feel like waiting in the hospital' might   
work with Skinner, but I know better."  
  
Mulder shrugged. "Let's just say that I had a feeling that you guys needed me, and keep   
it at that."  
  
Scully nodded, knowing there was more but deciding not to press further. She stood.   
"We have less than an hour to shower, dress, and get to the restaurant. I suggest we   
move."  
  
"Where are we going?" Mulder asked, struggling to stand.  
  
"Somewhere a little nicer than our usual restaurants," Scully replied. "Kevin said it has   
good food and a pleasant atmosphere." At Mulder's grimace, she quickly added, "Don't   
worry, you can wear your jeans. It's still casual. Just don't use your slum-wear."  
  
"I don't have slum-wear," Mulder said indignantly. "My clothes are comfortable."  
  
"Mulder, I wouldn't wear your clothes to go take out the garbage in the middle of the   
night," Scully stated, heading back to her own room.  
  
Mulder snickered. "So when would you wear my clothes?"  
  
Scully's only response was to reach around him, grab a pillow, and smack him in the   
head with it. Mulder took his other pillow, and within minutes the two were deep in the   
midst of a pillow fight. They finally dissolved into fits of giggles, collapsing on the   
ground to rest.  
  
"How old are we?" Scully asked.  
  
Mulder only laughed. Scully joined him, then stood. "We'd better hurry, or we'll be   
late."  
  
"Scully?"  
  
Scully paused at the door to her room. "Yes, Mulder?"  
  
"Thanks. For everything."  
  
Scully smiled. "Anytime, partner. Anytime."  
  
As she disappeared into her room, Mulder remained where he was, lost in thought.   
Scully called out from behind the door.  
  
"Are you gonna shower, or do I have to bathe you myself?"  
  
Mulder tossed a suggestive grin at the door. "Is that an invitation?"  
  
"Get in there, Mulder! And might I suggest a cold shower?"  
  
end 9/9  
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